Magic Trick
by blueseacowboy
Summary: A birthday party takes an unexpected turn.
1. Chapter 1

Magic Trick

by

Beth

Chapter One

"Admiral? Are you about ready to head over to the birthday party for the O'Brien twins," Angie Wood, Admiral Harriman Nelson's secretary and right hand called from the outer office just before she appeared in his doorway.

"Just about," he replied with a smile as he put some folders away in his desk drawer.

"Remember what Bobby and Mandy said about what to wear. The proud parents don't want to see a uniform on anyone," she added with a smile, knowing Lieutenant Robert O'Brien, one of the admiral's handpicked officers, wouldn't have the nerve to berate the four-star admiral for wearing his uniform to the party for his young sons, but Mandy...Amanda Kellick O'Brien...would.

"I can understand that sentiment," Nelson laughed. "I have a quick meeting before, but I brought a change of clothes from the house this morning for the occasion. Just need to change and I'll be ready to head to my meeting."

"As long as you get to the restaurant on time. Don't let this meeting go too long," she admonished with a fake stern look on her face. "They only have the place reserved for a few hours."

"Hours? How long does it take to celebrate a birthday party for five-year olds?"

"Five is a very big number. Just ask Dylan and Sean," she laughed, naming the two birthday celebrants.

"I suppose so," Nelson nodded thoughtfully. "I just can't believe the boys are five already. Seems like just yesterday Bobby and Mandy were getting married and now they have two boys."

"Time does fly," Angie agreed.

"Any idea what a party for five-year olds is like?" he asked as he came around the side of his desk and seated himself on the corner. "It's been awhile since I've been to one."

"Well, the last one I went to was for my nephew and it was…well, the word pandemonium comes to mind," she laughed. "Imagine ten five-year old boys all running around yelling. But you know Sean and Dylan…they're good quiet kids, just like their parents. I'm sure it won't be that bad. Mandy said they have the boys' favorite food planned, pizza, a large cake and a magician is coming to keep them all entertained."

"A magician?"

"You have a problem with magicians?" she asked with a laugh at the look on her boss' face.

"Not really a problem," he answered. "There's just no…allure when you know how the tricks are done."

"And how do you know how they're done?"

"Research!" he answered with a look on his face that said it should have been obvious.

"Well, play along. The boys don't know it's fake," she ordered in a pretend stern voice.

"Yes, ma'am," he said saluting her. "I will do my best. Now, get out of here so I can change, get to this meeting and get to the party on time."

"I'll see you at the restaurant. Don't be late," she ordered once more.

"I will not be late. Now, out!"

With a laugh, Angie turned on her heel and fled the office.

Harry shook his head as he walked to the door and closed it, quickly changing from his normal khaki uniform into a pair of black pants and a black and white checked shirt.

Finally dressed in what he hoped Mandy O'Brien found acceptable for a party for her boys, he smiled and left the office.

~0~

His meeting accomplished in a quite timely fashion, Harry arrived at the door to the restaurant, the sounds of laughter spilling from inside and he reveled at the joy he heard inside. Over the years his men had become more to him than mere employees. He rejoiced with them in their joys and triumphs and mourned with them when life didn't go the way they'd planned. Dylan and Sean were two of the joys he'd celebrated over the last few years and he hoped for only good things for the boys and their parents.

Stepping through the door, he smiled as he saw members of his crew and their families clustered in small groups enjoying small talk. It wasn't often he and his crew took the time to gather as what he considered family, but when they did, it was a boisterous time. Decorations of some cartoon character Harry couldn't have named if you had threatened him adorned the walls and ceiling of the establishment. Groups of boys huddled nearby playing a game and laughing at some joke or antic one of the other boys had said or done.

"Admiral! Admiral! You're here!"

Harry had just enough time to prepare himself for the two fireballs of energy that jumped to their feet and raced to him, throwing themselves at his legs.

"Dylan, Sean…happy birthday!" Harry crowed as he knelt down, smiling as he felt their small arms wrap about his neck.

"We're five now, Admiral! Five!" they yelled in unison, each holding up five stubby fingers.

"Seems to me I heard that from someone," he joked.

"We're so glad you got here," Dylan said. "We can start the party now. Can't we, Daddy?"

Harry looked up to see Lt. Bobby O'Brien, a sheepish look on his face, standing behind his boys. "Yes, can't we, Mr. O'Brien?" Harry asked, joining his voice to the twins'.

A relieved smile flitted over the young lieutenant's face and he nodded. "Go tell your mother the admiral is here," he said with a smile.

"Sorry if I'm late. I ran into some traffic on the way."

"You're not late. The boys are just a little wound up and eager to get to the fun," Bobby replied with a smile. "They said when you got here the party could start because you're the admiral and it doesn't matter who else is here."

"Well, I can think of a few that might disagree but since the boys are the bosses for the day, let's go!" Harry said as he slapped Bobby on the back.

The two men walked over to a group surrounding the two birthday boys, Lee and Chip laughing at something one of the boys had said.

"Admiral! I'm so glad you could come!"

Harry smiled as he saw a petite woman with long brown hair separate from the group and walk towards them, pausing to give him a brief hug.

"Mandy, where else would I be when Messrs. Dylan and Sean O'Brien celebrate their fifth birthday? It's quite a milestone, you know," he confided, smiling as he saw the way the two boys, currently plastered to their mother's legs, puffed their chests up in importance.

"Don't give them any more reason to feel they're something special, Admiral," Mandy admonished.

"But they _are_ special and I've asked you before to call me Harry," he said with a smile to soften the words.

"I just can't seem to do that. No one else calls you Harry."

"And that's why I'd like you to start. It might just start a precedent."

"Well, Admiral. Good to see you found your way."

Harry turned to see Lee Crane and Chip Morton, huge smiles on their faces and paper cups in hand behind him.

"It wasn't hard, Lee. What are you two drinking?" he asked curiously, peering into the nearest cup.

"Kool-Aid," Chip answered with a grin as he watched a slight shiver go through the admiral at the prospect of drinking the sugary drink.

"Any other options?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope," Lee grinned. "The brand-spanking new five-year olds requested Kool-Aid and only Kool-Aid. You can however choose your flavor."

"Well, lead me to the Kool-Aid then," Nelson sighed.

The three walked to the table on the side of the spacious room and poured some of the beverage into cups, Harry choosing a bright red.

"You know, this isn't all that bad," Harry said with a smack of his lips.

"Who knew Admiral Nelson liked Kool-Aid," Lee laughed as he poured more for himself.

"Maybe we should ask Cookie to put in a supply before our next mission," Chip joked.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Morton," Harry laughed. "I think this will last me for a long time."

"What will last a long time?" Bobby O'Brien asked as he came up behind the group.

"Mr. Morton was just thinking that perhaps we could put in a supply of Kool-Aid for our next mission. We were just wondering what you thought of that idea, Mr. O'Brien," Harry asked in a serious tone of voice.

"Kool-Aid? On _Seaview_ , sir? I…well, I don't know…I suppose...well..."

Before Bobby could finish figuring out if the admiral was serious or not he heard his wife calling him and turned to see her hurrying towards him, Angie close on her heels.

"Mandy, what's wrong?" he asked walking to her quickly followed by Lee, Chip and Harry.

"Oh, Krandor the Incredible…the magician I hired for the party…had to cancel but he sent someone to replace him."

"Well, Honey, what's the problem?" Bobby asked quietly. "A magician is here to do an act so…"

"Oh Bobby, he isn't the one I hired. I don't know anything about him. What if he's awful?"

"If Krandor the Incredible sent this guy to replace him, he must think he's good, don't you think?" he said soothingly.

"I suppose. I just wanted everything to go well. It's the only fifth birthday party they'll have."

"I'm sure it's fine. Come on. Let's go talk to him."

The group watched Bobby and Mandy walk off to talk to Krandor the Incredible's replacement.

"You know if this substitute isn't any good, the admiral here could step in," Angie said, doing her best to hide a smile.

"The admiral?" Lee asked, turning to the man beside him. "What do you know about magic?"

"I know how the tricks are done, Angie. I didn't say I could perform them. We'll just let Krandor's replacement do that," he said with a shake of his head and a warning look to his secretary who merely smiled innocently.

A few minutes later, Dylan and Sean broke away from their group of friends and raced to the group. "Come on! The magic show's about to begin!" they cried, almost in perfect unison. Grabbing hands, they began to pull the group to the front of the stage area where the adults seated themselves on chairs while Dylan and Sean sat in front on the floor with their friends, laughing at some joke.

"Sit back and try to smile, Admiral," Lee whispered.

"I am smiling, Captain," Harry returned, an almost believable smile on his craggy face.

They watched as a svelte woman in a flowing costume walked out on the stage and stopped directly in front of the gathering of giggling boys.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, are you ready to witness the impossible?"

A loud yell of assent from the row of boys in front of the adults erupted.

"Wonderful! Let me introduce you to the most amazing magician ever to walk a stage! Here he is…Maximus the Magnificent…master of illusion!"

With a sudden eruption of smoke from the center stage, Maximus, replete in flowing robes, suddenly appeared before the screaming five-year olds.

"Welcome one and all to the most amazing show you will ever see!"

Over the course of the next half hour, Maximus performed magic trick after magic trick all to the amazement of the row of boys that were mesmerized and dumbfounded.

"And now for my final, most stupendous trick…the disappearing man trick! Now I need a volunteer from the audience," Maximus said as he jumped from the stage and walked thoughtfully towards the audience, his finger tapping his mouth as he perused the arrayed group. Squeals of, "Pick me! Pick me!" burst from several of the eager five-year olds.

"Oh my, you're too small for this magic act I'm afraid," he said as he shook his head. "I need someone bigger. Someone unafraid of the unknown. Someone brave and daring."

"My daddy ain't afraid of nothin'!" Dylan O'Brien asserted forcefully. "Pick him!"

"I'm sure your daddy will be a fine…wait a minute," Maximus said as he came to a stop in front of Nelson who stared at him with a quizzical look. "This cannot be! Admiral Harriman Nelson, world famous man of the sea and science, here? What a treasure! What a surprise to find the legendary Admiral here at my humble show! I'm…well honored does the sentiment no justice! Would you do me the honor of allowing me to make you disappear before these fine people?"

"I think perhaps someone else might be a better choice," Harry chuckled. "Perhaps the boys' father as they requested."

"No, no, no! We want him to make you disappear first, Admiral Nelson. Then our daddy! Please!" both boys cried in unison, making Harry wonder how they could seem to speak in one voice so often.

"Come on, Admiral," Lee said, jabbing an elbow into his ribs. "It's what the birthday boys want. You can't deny them their request."

"Lee…"

"Yes, Admiral?" Lee asked.

The pressure to give in became overwhelming as Lee coaxed the boys into chanting his name and Harry reluctantly stood then leaned down to whisper in Lee's ear. "I'll get you back for this. Have no _illusions_ of that, Captain," he muttered as he followed Maximus up on stage where a large purple box stood.

Maximus' assistant made a huge gesture of opening the box and spinning it, making sure everyone saw it was empty. Before ushering the admiral to the box, Maximus paused to surreptitiously whisper a few words, before he helped him inside and closed the door. Standing in front of the audience the magician said, "And now I will say the incantation that will make the good admiral disappear!" he boasted and began a nonsensical arrangements of words complete with several wild arm gestures at the box. Then with a flourish and a small explosion of smoke, opened the door to show the box was indeed empty.

The boys exploded in gasps, then raucous applause.

"Bring him back now! Bring him back!" they yelled happily.

"Your wish is my command," he said bowing slightly.

Turning, he closed the door to the box, spun it several times, repeated the same chants and gyrations then opened the door to reveal a still empty box. The gasps of his audience had him turning to the box and peering inside then turning back to the audience, he raised his hands to calm the audience clamoring for Admiral Nelson's return.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, sometimes the return of the subject is somewhat delayed…hampered by the negativity of the universe or a solar storm from far off! Allow me to try again!"

Maximus repeated the procedure only to find the same thing: the box was empty.

"Where is he?" Dylan and Sean yelled. "Where's the admiral?"

Lee leaned forward in anxiety as he stared at the empty box, a feeling of foreboding enveloping him.

"Lee?" Chip whispered. "Where is he?"

"Please! Please! I assure you, Admiral Nelson will be where he is supposed to be by the end of your party. When I feel the conditions are right, we will try again!" he assured the audience with a grandiose gesture, hushing the worried whispers of the five-year olds but doing nothing to allay the worry of the adults who suddenly felt as though something was very wrong. "Thank you all for your kind attention and your wonderful applause!"

The boys, accompanied by a worried Mandy, scampered off to play more games on the other side of the room as Lee, Chip and Bobby rushed the stage.

"Where is he?" Lee asked harshly.

"Gentlemen! Please! It's all in fun!" he laughed. "A simple joke!"

"Where is he?" Lee asked again.

"I don't know. I told him once the door closed to climb out the small trap door in the back that I showed him then after the reveal to climb back in. He assured me he understood. Please! He simply wanted to play a joke on you all. Really! There's no need for concern. It's a joke! That's all! He must be hiding somewhere."

"Bobby, Chip, look for him. You, Maximus, will stay with me until we find him," Lee ordered, grabbing his arm in a vise-like grip.

"I assure you it's a joke. Please!"

Several long minutes went by as Lee paced, anxiety filling him. He couldn't help but feel the admiral would never pull a trick on them such as the one he reportedly had. Too many times in the past he had disappeared, much to the worry of his friends, and Lee knew Nelson would never play the kind of joke on them Maximus claimed he had.

"He's not here," Chip said as he and Bobby came from behind the curtain a few moments later, worry marking their faces. "We checked the lobby, the men's room, the parking lot…he's not here."

"His car?"

"Still in the lot."

Lee, his jaw clenched in anger, turned to the magician who was beginning to have a scared look on his face.

"It…it was a joke," he whispered.

"Admiral Nelson wouldn't think this was a joke," Lee replied forcefully as he walked closer to the now terrified magician. "There's no way he would tell you he thought this was funny."

"Well, actually…he didn't. I…"

"You what?"

"I was told Admiral Nelson would be here. I was told he wanted to be a part of the magic show and to make sure I chose him from the crowd. I was told he simply wanted to play a joke on his friends. That he would go in the box and not come back!"

"Who told you this?" Chip asked.

"The magician I took over for…Krandor. He called me a few hours ago, said something had come up and he wouldn't be able to do the show here. He filled me in on what he had planned, what the parents wanted and then said to do the magic box trick as a finale and to choose Admiral Nelson. He told me that the admiral wanted to play a joke. That's all I know!"

"You know this Krandor?"

"Yes, of course. When one of us has prior commitments or we run into problems, we recommend the other for a gig. That's simply what I thought was happening! I swear!"

"Did you meet Krandor or did he call you?" Bobby asked.

"He called."

"Was it his voice?"

"Yes, it was. I'm sure of it."

"Damn it. Chip, call the Santa Barbara Police. Tell them we think the admiral may have been abducted."

"What?" a soft voice behind them asked.

Turning they saw Angie Wood with her arm around a scared looking Mandy O'Brien.

"We're not sure of anything, Mandy," Bobby said softly as he came to stand by his wife, wrapping her in a hug as Angie came to stand by Lee.

"What happened?" Angie asked, her voice shaking.

"Don't know just yet. Maximus here says it's just a joke the admiral wanted to play on us but I'm not buying it," Lee said.

"He wouldn't think this was funny," Angie insisted.

"I agree," Lee answered, a hard edge to his voice.

"Lee? I contacted Detective Chris Powers from Santa Barbara Police. She's sending someone over."

"Powers? Wasn't she the detective that came when the admiral went missing from that Halloween charity party a few years ago?" *

"The same," Chip agreed. "She'll be here shortly."

"In the meantime Maximus, perhaps you'd like to show us your gear and your car?" Lee asked his voice hard.

"Of…of course. Here are my…my keys. It's a big blue van with my name on it," he said nervously, handing over a ring with keys on it to Chip who grabbed a few men and went outside.

"Come on. Show me your equipment," Lee ordered.

The men walked behind the curtain to a large area with trunks scattered about, various magic paraphernalia coming out of it. They opened trunks that weren't open and searched every place a man might be able to hide in before they finally gave up.

"Skipper, I…well, I'm sorry, sir," Bobby whispered. "I can't believe this happened. It was just a birthday party!"

"Easy, Bobby. This isn't your fault. Someone planned this."

"Planned what exactly," a voice behind them said.

Turning the two men saw a tall, trim woman with flame-red hair pulled back into a pony tail and a hard look on her face behind them.

"Detective Powers. That was fast," Lee said.

"When you get word that a man as famous as Admiral Harriman Nelson has disappeared, you don't waste time. Now can you tell me what's happened?"

Lee quickly filled her in on what had happened then turned to Maximus who was now sitting on one of his trunks with his head in his hands.

"Maximus? What…"

"Please," the magician said raising his hands. "Call me Bernie."

"Bernie?" Powers questioned.

"My name is Bernard Hopper. Bernie for short."

"All right…Bernie…what happened? Where is the admiral?" Powers asked in a hard tone.

"I told them and I'm telling you…I don't know," he said as he rose from his perch. "I got a call from Sammy Detter…Krandor the Incredible…that he couldn't do this kid birthday party and would I step in for him. I of course said yes. Then he tells me to do the disappearing man trick as a finale and to choose a particular audience member, Admiral Nelson, for the trick."

"Was that strange?"

"Yeah, it is in a way. Usually we don't do that trick for kid parties. It has a tendency of freaking the kids out. But, he said it's what the parents wanted."

"And the part about the admiral…whose idea was that?"

"Sammy said Nelson contacted him when he found out the party included a magician. He said Nelson thought it would be funny if he disappeared. I didn't ask questions. I kind of need the money right now."

"And what happened when Nelson got on stage?"

"I told him what to do and he said he understood the trick. He went in, disappeared and never came back. That's all I know."

"When we realized something was wrong, we started looking for him," Lee said.

"And you don't think it might simply be a trick the admiral is playing on you all?"

"No. He would never do that. He wouldn't think this was funny."

"From what I know of Nelson, I have to agree with you. Where does this Krandor live?" Powers asked turning back to Hopper.

"Uh…7345 Santa Barbara Drive, Santa Barbara."

"Phone?

"805-555-1212," he said morosely.

"All right. I'll be right back. I'll get a unit over to this guy's house," Powers said as she turned and left.

"Lee, we checked the van out. He's not there," Chip said, passing Powers on her way out.

"We looked everywhere, Skipper," Jake Kowalski, a member of _Seaview's_ crew, said. "If he's hiding, he's doing a great job."

"He's not. You know as well as I do he wouldn't think it was funny."

"Yeah…yeah you're right," the young seaman said morosely. "What are we gonna do to find him though? Anyone could have taken him."

"Lee, do you think we should call anyone else? ONI? The FBI?" Chip asked quietly.

"No. Not yet. Let's see what Powers finds out first."

Several long minutes passed as Lee paced, his worry for the admiral increasing as each minute passed.

"Lee, Powers is coming back," Chip said.

"Detective, do you have any word?"

"Yes, and it isn't good I'm afraid. A unit went to this Sammy Detter's apartment. They found his body inside. He's dead."

"How?"

"Knife wound it looks like. This is looking very bad. I contacted the local FBI office and told them what happened. They're on it. I also sent BOLOs out to all departments within a 100 mile radius. We'll find him, Crane," she assured him.

"In time? Look, we have a few agencies we need to contact, also."

"Do it. We can use all the help we can get. Keep me informed. I want to stay in the loop."

"Agreed."

"I hate to say it, but I think in light of what's happened, perhaps this party should end," Powers said softly. "If someone took the admiral, they could still be around. We don't want anyone else to go missing."

"You think whoever did this wants something or someone else?" Bobby asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Maybe. Maybe he or she isn't done yet," Powers answered.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Lee said softly. "I know it's not the best way to end the party but..."

"No, I agree. If they're still around, we can't put the boys or their friends in jeopardy. I'll tell Mandy and we'll call the boys' parents to come get them," he said as he walked to where Mandy, Angie and a few of the crew watched the party goers playing a game.

Turning, Lee saw several members of the crew standing around them, angry looks on their faces and he almost pitied whomever had taken the admiral. "I want you men to stay here. Protect everyone until every last person is gone, every last child picked up."

"Aye sir," they answered before spreading out across the room.

"I have my men combing the exterior and the surrounding streets. Maybe someone saw something," Powers said.

"Hopefully. Let me know if you hear anything or find anything. Chip? Let's head out. We have a few calls to make," Lee growled.

* The Hiding Place


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate them!

Consciousness returned slowly to Harriman Nelson. An awareness of a numbing weakness disturbed him briefly before a blinding pain filled his head. Moving slightly on the hard surface he laid on produced the same pain throughout his body and he questioned briefly what had happened to produce the thousand tiny jack jammers that beat relentlessly on not only his skull, but on every square inch of his body.

Opening his eyes slightly intensified the pain and only produced a muddled, filmy haze. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted him and he struggled to keep his stomach from releasing whatever he had last eaten. He closed his eyes and laid his head back down, groaning at the stab of pain the movement produced.

"Ah, Harry! I was beginning to believe I had given you too much," a voice somewhere near him said quite cheerfully.

"Gave me…gave me what?" he asked as he tried to bring a hand to his head only to discover his hands were tied securely with a thick rope

"Just a little drug to knock you out long enough to take you from that fine birthday party you were at to, well, here."

Opening his eyes slowly, shock filled him as he recognized the man behind the voice.

"Shane?" he whispered as he tried to get his eyes to focus. "Shane Caldwell?"

"It's kind of you to remember me, Harry. I wasn't sure you would."

"It's rather hard to forget a traitor," Harry growled, his voice growing stronger as the pain and nausea subsided somewhat.

"I did what I had to do."

"For what? Money? You disgust me. You shot two men in the back for the secrets you stole! Two good men who…"

"And you shot my brother! Killed him! He was your friend. _We_ were friends! Or so we thought."

"Yes, we were friends. Close friends. And you and Simon gave me no choice. I begged you to stop. I begged you to give up. But you didn't. You are just as much to blame for Simon's death as I am."

"Me? You think I'm to blame? How am I to blame? It was your hand on that gun, your finger that pulled the trigger!"

"Your hand was right there with mine, Shane. Simon idolized you, followed you, did what you, his big brother, told him to do."

"Simon had his own mind."

"Did he? You were practically the only family he had. You raised him. You knew he would do anything for you. And he died because of that."

"Enough! The only thing that matters is that Simon is dead. And do you remember how he died, Harry?"

"Yes…yes I do."

"Tell me, Harry. How did my brother die?"

"You know that better than I do. You were with him. You _were_ with him, weren't you? Or did you abandon him so you could get away?"

Filled with rage, Shane Caldwell crossed the room and backhanded Harry. "I did not leave him! I carried him with me through that wilderness, hiding in dead trees, eating grubs to keep alive, praying all the time that Simon would live…that I could get him help! But, the bullet you put in him festered. He was wracked with fever and hallucinations until he bled to death."

Harry wiped his mouth with his bound hands. "I am sorry for that Shane. I had hoped Simon had some how made it," he said after a moment's silence. "But I had no option. I couldn't let you take the secrets you had…"

"The Intel was worthless," Caldwell interrupted.

"What?"

"You didn't know that?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in question. "The "secrets" you, Andre, Gareth and the rest of us were sent to recover were lies **.** It was a plot to divert attention from the real mission. We...you... were a decoy. An expendable decoy."

"No. No that…that can't be true. Why would…I don't believe you," he said firmly.

"It doesn't matter to me what you believe. When I managed to get out of that wilderness, I delivered the packet of plans to my buyer in The People's Republic and paid the price when my contacts saw what I had brought them. They assumed I had double-crossed them and I was imprisoned. For ten long years I thought about you, hated you, planned how I would kill you."

"Killing me won't change anything. Revenge is…"

"It doesn't have to change anything. And to quote Samuel Johnson, 'Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.' What I want is vengeance. And I will have it."

"How did I get here anyway?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"How did you get here?' Shane mocked. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Last thing I remember is..." Harry stopped suddenly unwilling to say anything about the party or those who had attended.

"The party? You remember the party for those two adorable cherubs, don't you, Harry?" Shane sneered. "Tell me what you remember."

"I remember the magic trick," he replied concentrating hard to recall what had happened. "I went in the box and when I went out the trap door at the back, someone or something hit me."

"Poor Harry. What else do you remember?"

Harry looked up at Shane in shock. "I...I saw you! You were there! You and...and someone else. Just before I passed out, I saw you. Who did you have help you? And how did you get me past all of my people?"

"The "who" who helped me isn't important right now. Just a willing accomplice who helped me get you past your people and out of the party unnoticed. The how, well magic tricks are so fascinating, aren't they? Everybody's attention was so focused on the trick, that I had plenty of time to knock you out, stuff you in a crate and haul you to a waiting truck. Quite simple really. I thought it would be harder to take you. I actually had a much more elaborate plan in mind but when I heard about this party, I devised a new, simpler plan."

"And how did you hear about it?"

"Harry! You know as well as I do that if you grease the right palms or hang out in the right places, you can hear a lot of interesting tidbits. Some of your people were quite excited about this party. I knew all the particulars including who the main act was going to be. Krandor the Incredible! Turns out, he wasn't too incredible."

"Why? What happened to him?"

"He served his purpose. He passed the role of birthday party magician on to an unknowing, simpleminded fellow magician and met an untimely demise. It was very sad."

"You killed him?" My people...are they all right?" he asked concerned Shane would vent his anger on his friends as he had on an unsuspecting magician.

"As far as I know the answer is yes, they are fine."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I had no hand in any illnesses, injuries or death to anyone other than Krandor."

Mollified slightly Harry looked about his surroundings closely; noticing the cedar-lined walls of what appeared to be a cabin of some type, pine trees blowing in a gentle breeze outside "Where are we anyway?" Harry asked as he pulled himself into a sitting position, the scent of pine strong in his nostrils.

"Some place far from your friends. Far from those that would do their best to rescue you. Far from your beloved sea in fact."

"So what is it you have planned for me? A bullet in the back?"

"Oh nothing so mundane. Or so quick. No, what I have planned is…a hunt."

"A hunt?"

"Yes, Harry…a hunt. Just like the hunt Simon and I were on. Only this time, I will be the hunter…not you. _You_ will be the prey."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's quite simple. Simon and I ran from you, Andre and Gareth. We hid in dirt holes, ate what we could find as we tried to get to our rendezvous. And all that time I watched as Simon weakened until he could go no farther and he died in my arms. Do you know what that's like? Any idea how it felt to feel someone you love weaken and die? I felt the life leave him and I promised him before he took his last breath that I would make you three pay. So far, only two of you have. You, Harry are the last."

"Andre and Gareth are dead?"

"Their deaths weren't as elaborate as what I have planned for you but then you were the leader of our little group, weren't you? Always had to be the best, didn't you? Always had to stay loyal. For you, I went beyond Andre's knife in the back and Gareth's unfortunate car accident."

"You're mad."

"Angry is what I am."

"You killed both of them because of something that was your own fault?"

"I killed them yes. But it was _your_ fault they died. It's _your_ fault Andre and Gareth are dead. Add two more names to the list of people you had a hand in killing, Harry."

Harry laid his head back and watched the man before him slowly pace in agitation, unable to understand the depths of the man's hate.

"So tell me this wonderful revenge plan of yours," he said bringing Shane back from the dark place he'd gone to.

"It's simple actually," he smirked. "I am going to let you go."

"Let me go. And then?"

"Then I will hunt you down and kill you. If you don't die before I find you that is. You see, along with being far from the ocean, we are in a very inhospitable, vast forest filled with oh so many things that could kill you. Some are natural…snakes, falls, animals, poisonous plants. But some are little surprises I have set up for you."

"Surprises?" Harry asked

"Yes. You were an agent for ONI for many years, been to many different lands whose people had ways of killing a person. Your job is to avoid all those things…manmade and natural…that want to hurt, maim or kill you. All you have to do is survive. I'll even give you a head start before I begin tracking you…say twenty-four hours. Find your way out before I find you and kill you."

"You really are mad. Suppose I refuse to run from you or play your little game? What then?"

"What then? Do you really want me to simply shoot you? That would be no fun for me."

"What's to stop me from simply waiting somewhere and killing you first?"

"Well, yes that would be an idea but not part of the rules of my game. So how could I convince you to play my game with my rules, hmm?" he asked as he walked over to a television Nelson hadn't noticed and flipped it on. The picture coalesced into an image of two curly-haired boys playing with a set of trucks at a table, the room devoid of any identifying characteristics. Nelson's blood ran cold as the two boys turned their faces towards the camera and he recognized the O'Brien twins.

"I see I have your attention. If you don't run, or 'play my game', I will have Dylan and Sean O'Brien...well, let's just say their parents will be quite distraught at what will happen."

Harry stared at the video of the two boys and felt as if his heart were being torn from him. They were innocents, devoid of deceit or guile and yet they had become a part of a sinister plot. His face hardened and he turned to Shane. "Where are they?"

"They are nearby. They are being watched closely by my associate. I assure you, he is taking good care of them as you can see. They have toys, food, and a warm place to sleep. To them, they are simply on a great adventure. You disappeared from the box; they believe they are playing a game with you. Hide and seek if you will. If you want no harm to come to the O'Brien boys or their family, or any of your friends for that matter, you will do what I say. You see, you're not only playing for your life, but theirs."

"This is between you and me, Shane. My friends…those boys have no part in this!"

"They _are_ part of this because they are important to you! And as such, I know that the heroic Admiral Nelson would do whatever he could to protect them. And that means you do what I say!"

"What if play your little game. What about them?" Harry asked, jerking his head to the screen that still showed the boys playing, unconcerned.

"Simple. You play my game and beat me, they go free."

"Really. Just like that. All that pent up rage inside you, all that vengeance filling you will be assuaged by my surviving?"

"That's not entirely what I said. I said if you win, they go free. Beyond that isn't of concern right now. I do promise to free them if you win. That's all."

"And just how do I win this little game?"

"I let you go and you manage to find your way to civilization before I find and kill you. That's a win for you and they go free. You play and I win, meaning you're dead, they still go free. It's a win win situation for them."

"And if you somehow die during this little game, what then?"

"If you were to kill me at any point during my hunt, you would be killing them also. My associate will see to that. I know it seems unfair but it's my game," he shrugged.

"Say you somehow die not by my hand, how will your associate know to let them go if you're dead?"

"Well, you should have said associates. One, or more, are watching the two little ones. One or more will be nearby as I hunt you. They will know if you stand and fight."

"And I'm supposed to trust you? I get to civilization and you just let them go?"

"I don't care if you trust me or not. But, I do promise you that they will not be hurt if you play my game. Win or lose, live or die, they will be fine. As you can see, they appear happy. For now," he said as he watched the video.

Harry sat for several long minutes, watching the boys playing, carefree and innocent, on the screen, knowing that a win for Shane meant his death. As he watched the boys, he couldn't help feeling that something was not quite right but his brain, still clouded by the drug, couldn't place what was wrong.

"Let them go, Shane. Let them go and you can do what you want with me. Kill me, beat me, keep me here, whatever. But don't make those boys pay for something they had no part in."

"Outright killing you has no allure for me, Harry. It was fine for the other two but you...you were in charge weren't you? You led the team. A simple bullet in the head is too easy for you. Bang and you're dead? No, no, no. I want you to suffer first. I want you to know what it's like to be hunted. I must admit to thinking about taking out one of your friends first but, I discovered I do have a heart after all. You are the one I want to suffer physically. However, if you are too scared, I can order the boys killed now," he said reaching for a walkie-talkie by his side.

"No!"

"No what, Harry?"

Sighing he lowered his head in defeat. "I guess I have no choice. I'll play your demented game. Just don't hurt the boys."

Smiling broadly, Shane walked across the room to a pile of clothes lying on a chair, picked them up and threw them at Harry. "Your pretty clothes aren't exactly made for the environs I've chosen for you. Put them on. And these," he said throwing a pair of hiking boots at him. "I don't want this episode to play out too quickly. You could so easily die from a simple broken leg or exposure. And we don't want that, do we?"

"How do you expect me to do that with my hands tied?"

With a snort, Shane walked to Harry and swiftly untied his hands. "Better, Harry?"

"Much. Thank you," he answered sarcastically as he reached for the clothes, unsurprised to find the heavyweight pants, flannel shirt and heavy thermal shirt were all in his size as were the hiking boots.

"Curious as to how I knew your sizes?"

"Not really," he answered as he took off his shirt and pants and put on the clothes Shane had given him, fighting the desire to launch himself across the room at Shane.

When fully dressed, Harry stared at Shane, waiting for his next move and plotting whether he could take the man and save the boys at the same time. Mentally shaking his head, he knew that first off, he wasn't strong enough right now to take the man that stood arrogantly before him, waiting for him to make just such a move. Whatever drug he had used on him hadn't left his system yet and his world continued to spin, but at a slower speed. Secondly, he couldn't play with the twins' lives. He would run and hope he could find his way out of whatever situation Shane put him in before he killed him.

"Still feeling the effects of the drug, are you? It will dissipate. Once you're where I want you to be."

"And where is that?"

"That, Harry, is my secret. But since I don't want you to have any idea where you are now, I'm afraid I need to knock you out again. A lesser dose. I wouldn't want you to sleep through something as terrifying as, say a bear attack," he smirked. "Remember, you have twenty-four hours before I start my hunt. Find your way back to civilization, and help, and you win. The boys will be safe as long as you take this as seriously as it is. The rules are simple."

"Shane…"

But before Harry could say another word, Shane took a nearby gun and fired a dart into Harry's chest. The drug was quick acting and with a slight moan, he slumped to the ground, never hearing Shane's laughter.

~0~

An overwhelming feeling of nausea coupled with a splitting headache welcomed Harriman Nelson back from oblivion. Lying as still as he could, he tried hard to figure out where he was. A soft cushioning material lay under his cheek and the raucous call of birds filled his ears. Moving slightly, he moaned as pain flared again through his head. Opening his eyes slightly, he waited until his vision began to clear, then forced himself to sit up. He swallowed hard, groaning at the pain that filled him and glanced about at his new environs, frowning when all he saw were trees.

Lying back against one, he closed his eyes and willed the earth to stop spinning. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and stared about, struggling to find some clue as to where he was. Moving slightly on the mossy blanket he found himself on, his hand brushed against something beside him and he looked down to see a small piece of paper, a rock on top anchoring it from the slight breeze that wafted through the forest.. Reaching for the scrap, he opened it, willing his eyes to focus and read the short missive.

 _Congratulations on not becoming dinner for some wandering carnivore! I won't tell you where you are or what animals or other dangers you may encounter. You're smart. I figure you'll know that answer soon enough._

 _I will start tracking you at 1200 hours. That gives you nearly a 24 hour head start. I've left you your watch just so you know how long you've been lost and how long you have until I start my hunt. Thoughtful. No?_

 _Stay alive. Find your way out of your new surroundings and you win! Which way should you go? East? West? Perhaps south. Perhaps north! Find your way out before I find you and make you pay._

 _I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Harry. Only so I can put a bullet in you and end this._

Dropping the letter, Harry closed his eyes and thought hard. He had to find a way out of the wilderness he found himself in. With no compass he needed to determine which way was west or east, north or south. Rising unsteadily from the ground, he folded the letter and put in his pants pocket. Glancing quickly at his watch, he frowned when he saw it was 1400 hours. That meant he had only twenty-two hours left before Shane started his hunt. Feeling the afternoon slipping away from him, he pushed away from the tree he leaned against, cursing as a wave of dizziness wafted over him, telling him the drug Shane had used wasn't out of his system yet.

Feeling the waves subside, he decided to scout about looking for any sign that told him which way Shane had come in and left by. Walking in gradually wider circles about the tree he'd awaken by, he discovered no obvious tracks: no broken twigs, slight depressions in the mossy ground, no disturbed dirt or an obviously dislodged rock was evident. With a slight shake of his head, he chuckled.

"You learned your survival skills quite well, Shane. I'm not surprised," he said, a slight tone of respect in his voice. "Well, since you've been no help, I need to figure out where I am and how to get out of here." Staring up at the large trees that loomed over him, he walked to the closest one and patted it. "Lots of moss on the trees but not just on one side. That tells me I'm in a pretty wet environment. That'll be good for finding water I hope but doesn't tell me which way is north. Not that it matters right now I suppose since I have no idea which way civilization is."

Making a decision, Harry headed off towards what looked to be an open area, the vertigo from the residual drug causing him to stumble over tree roots and rocks that littered the forest floor. Not long after he'd started out, he stopped dead in his tracks as he stared about him. At first glance nothing seemed out of place but the hairs rising on the back of his neck told him to look closer. Slowly lowering himself down to the ground he peered in front of him and off to the side, Shane's words ringing in his ears: _"You see, along with being far from the ocean, we are in a very inhospitable, vast forest filled with oh so many things that could kill you. Some are natural…snakes, falls, poisonous plants. But some are little surprises I have set up for you."_

Finally, he spotted an area in front of him about a yard away that on first glance appeared normal. But on a closer inspection, the ground appeared to be a slightly darker color than the surrounding area. Smiling, he rose and looked about. Finding a large rock, he stepped back several yards, hunkered down behind a large boulder and tossed it at the suspicious area. The rock's impact and the resulting explosion of rock, dirt and leaves seemed almost instantaneous. Coughing, Harry brushed the dirt from his clothes and shook his head. Shane had meant every word of what he had said about the "surprises" he'd planted. And if he'd been truthful about that, Harry had to assume he was being truthful about the danger the O'Brien twins were in. Whether he liked it or not, he had to play Shane's game not only for _his_ life, but for the lives of two small boys.

Stepping carefully, Harry made his way to a small meadow fringed with towering trees, most of which Harry could guess the names of.

"This will do," he nodded, staring up at the brilliant sun above. Finding a stout stick, he dug a hole and planted the pole in it, nodding at the shadow the stick produced. Then he took a stone and put it where the edge of the shadow fell and looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes later, he marked the next shadow with another rock and smiled.

"Well, since it's 1430 hours, unless I'm much farther north than I think I am, west is to my right which means south is straight ahead. What I don't know is which way to move and the only way I can figure that is by a quick look from above."

Looking at the trees about him, he realized he stood on a slight hill. Walking to the far side of the meadow, he noticed the ground sloping downward and spotted a tree slightly taller than the ones below him on the hill. Hoping the effects of the drug didn't jeopardize him, he began climbing it.

After several exhausting minutes he reached as high up as he could go without endangering himself and paused to regain his breath, holding on tightly as he felt his world spinning slightly. Looking out at the vista before him, he groaned as all he saw was trees…miles and miles of trees. Twisting himself around as carefully as he could he turned his gaze to the down slope side and smiled slightly. There off to his south was a distinct break in the trees.

"Looks like I may have found water. Now to get down and head that way."

Using gravity to his advantage, he quickly descended and headed down the slight hill towards what he hoped was fresh water, his gaze fixed on the area in front of and off to the side of him for more of Shane's "surprises".

As he walked, he mentally reviewed the information his survival instructors had imparted to him over the years. One voice in particular filled his ears. "Everything you need to survive, Nelson…everything you need to get out of any situation...is all around you. Look for it. Find it. Survive. First, you need water. You can survive without food for weeks but your body needs fluid. Find as pure a source as you can, filter it, boil it, but find it. Next, you need shelter. Make it from what you have nearby. Make a fire. Not only does it provide warmth and a cooking source, but it provides comfort. There's nothing as reassuring as a blazing fire to push back the darkness. Lastly, find food…berries, acorns pine needles, small animals, fish. Use snares, traps, whatever you can."

Nodding to himself as he ticked off his priorities in his mind, he began to take notice of the variety of trees he passed by and stopped to examine one in particular. "Birch," he said softly as he ran a hand over the papery bark, knowing there were more than a few things he could use the bark for. Taking a thin piece he began to pull on it, managing to strip long sections from the tree, and put what he'd collected in his pockets.

Later, when he had time, he would fashion the strips into a bowl he could use to not only purify water, but perhaps carry with him. Assuming he found water of course. He noticed a stone with a sharp side to it at his feet and picked it up, running his thumb over the edge.

"This will do nicely," he muttered as he used the rock edge to slice a triangular slit in the birch tree, waiting as drops of liquid began to appear. Smiling, he leaned in and began to suck the sap that oozed from the cut. Sweet and nutritious, he began to feel his strength flow back and his thirst quenched, if only slightly. When the sap stopped flowing, he cut another section and another until he felt rejuvenated enough to continue on.

After more than two hours of steady downhill hiking, Harry was finally able to hear the distant but distinct sound of rushing water and he picked up his pace, his mouth becoming dry and uncomfortable.

Another hour of walking brought him to the jagged edge of a fairly wide river or creek, its water flowing fast. As thirsty as he was, he knew drinking directly from the stream was risky and decided he would wait before taking the chance of drinking contaminated water. Looking up and down the bank he saw little in the way of a ford and decided his best option was to follow the stream, which he was pretty certain, was flowing west.

"Westerly flowing stream unless I veered off my southerly course could mean I'm in the Pacific Northwest."

"Vegetation would bear that out. Not cold enough to be Alaska but…oh hell, I could be anywhere in the world," he muttered in disgust. "But, following water downstream usually leads to civilization. Assuming there is any around. And there's the water I'm going to need at some point."

With a sigh and a shrug, he set off. He'd only gone a few steps when he heard the unmistakable sound of a pressure plate on a landmine click at almost the same time as he heard an explosion and felt himself launched into the air. His last thought before he hit the ground was that Shane had won. He only hoped Shane's vengeance was assuaged by his death and he didn't kill the boys, or his friends for that matter. If the boys died, it would be all his fault.

~0~

Lee Crane sat at Admiral Nelson's desk, a phone in one hand and the fingers on his other tapping anxiously on the desk that was covered with scraps of paper and the remains of a few meals.

"Yes, I know you have alerts out on the admiral Detective Powersbut…yes, yes I know you're doing all you can. I…yes, all right. If you hear anything let me know as soon as you do. I'll do the same," he said almost slamming the phone down in anger.

Placing his head in his hands, he moaned softly. It had been over twenty-four hours since the admiral had disappeared from the party. Twenty-four hours with not one lead on what could have happened to the man.

"Lee?" a soft voice from the open door to the admiral's office called. "Any word?"

Looking up, Lee saw the admiral's secretary, worry clouding her face, standing just inside the door, two cups of coffee in her hands.

Doing his best to allay her concerns, he plastered a semi-smile on his face and shook his head. "Not yet. Soon though. BOLO's are out on him all over the world. Local police, FBI, CIA, ONI, INTERPOL…well, name an international agency and they've all been alerted and are on the look out for him," he assured as he rose and walked to the anxious woman who wordlessly handed him a cup of steaming fresh coffee. "We'll hear soon."

"You sound so sure," she murmured.

"I am. You should be, too. He can take care of himself."

Angie sat in the chair by the admiral's desk and took a sip of the strong brew. "I know that. It's just been too long."

"Or not long enough," a voice from the door said in a teasing tone.

"Chip? Any word?" Lee asked quickly when he saw the tall form of his friend in the doorway.

"Not yet. Just got finished with another call from Admiral Starke. He said something about lighting fires under a few behinds. Not his exact words, but close."

"He has no ideas? No Intel?" Lee asked.

"Nothing he wanted to share with me although I got the feeling he may have an idea. He's looking into a few things."

"What things?"

"Not a clue. He didn't share his thought processes with me. The first two calls I made to him he seemed shocked, worried. This last one…I don't know. It was like he had something but wasn't ready to share. And he's getting tired of my calls."

"Well, he can _be_ tired of them. If he knows something, _I_ want to know," Lee huffed as he rose and began to pace about the office, hands thrust deeply in his pants pockets.

Angie smiled into her coffee cup as she listened to Lee and watched him stalk about the admiral's office.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked when he noticed the slight twitch to her lips.

"You. For a moment you sounded just like the admiral. All stern and gruff. Just like…just like him," she finished softly, the worry returning to her face.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he whispered a smile tugging at his lips.

"Have you talked to Bobby?" Chip asked quietly.

"I did," Angie whispered. "They're worried of course. They feel guilty. Scared. They feel they should have known. The boys... the boys will be fine."

"Everyone is going to be fine. Except the person or persons that did this. They won't be fine," Lee promised. "Look, we've been at this for over twenty-four hours with no breaks other than a quick sandwich and way too much coffee. There's nothing more we can do right now. We should probably try to get some sleep so we're ready when we hear anything. Lord knows we need some."

"Oh, it's not even dark yet, Lee. Why it's barely 6:00!" Angie said looking to her watch. "Surely..."

"Angie, when was the last time you had any sleep? When was the last time any of us have had more than a few quick naps?" Lee asked gently.

"I don't really know but what if..."

"I'll stay here and rest on the couch. If I hear anything, I'll let you and Chip know."

"That doesn't seem fair," she pouted. "You need sleep, too."

"I doubt I'll be able to rest no matter where I am but I want the both of you to at least go home and try to sleep. All right? At least one of us should be rested."

"You're right," Chip said as he rose quickly from his seat. "Tomorrow will be here soon enough. And when it gets here, we'll hear something. If not before."

"I wish I was as sure as you two," Angie whispered as she rose and walked slowly from the admiral's office, Lee on her heels.

"With everyone in the intelligence and law enforcement agencies involved? It's a cinch we'll hear soon. Sheesh. Whoever did this is probably realizing what a bad idea taking the admiral was."

Lee smiled as he heard Chip, his tone one of confidence. "Chip's right, Angie. And if I know Admiral Nelson the way I think I do, he's already planning a way out of whatever he's gotten into. And heaven help whoever planned this."

"I hope you're both right," she said as she picked up her purse and headed for the door. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Call me if..."

"I promise to call if I hear anything. Good night, Angie. Get some sleep," Lee called as he watched her disappear into the outer office and out the door.

"Get some rest, Lee. Everything's going to be all right."

"I will, Chip. And I know it will be all right. It has to be."

"See you in a few hours," Chip said as he walked slowly from the room.

"'Night, Chip," he called.

Walking to the window, he pulled the curtain aside and stared out at the vista before him, a short-lived sense of peace enveloping him as he watched the waves roll on shore, one after another. Frustrated at the way things had gone from joyful at celebrating two boys' birthdays to this, made him smack his hand on the wall.

"When I find who did this, there will be Hell to pay. I promise you that. We'll find you. I only wish I hadn't pushed you into being part of that damn magic trick. Maybe you'd be here now."

Shaking his head in sadness and guilt, he sighed and turned from the window to the comfy looking couch. Rubbing his hands over his tired eyes, he walked to it and sank down onto the plush cushions. Laying his head back, he stared at the ceiling, trying hard to not see the images that tried to fill his mind: images of the admiral, alone, hurt, dead.

"Where are you?" he whispered, his voice loud in the stillness of the growing night. "Are you all right? Alive?"

No answer came from the stillness of the empty office and he sighed wearily. Swinging his legs up on the couch, he closed his eyes and prayed hard that he would soon know his friend's fate.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Thanks to all who left a review!

The sound of burbling water and the scent of mud and blood were the first things that told Harriman Nelson he was still alive. The second things were the pain that flowed through his head and the incessant ringing in his ears. As he struggled to rouse his sluggish mind and aching body, he paused to question why he was still alive before he slowly raised his face from the muck at the river's edge and spit out the blood that filled his mouth. Rolling onto his back, he lay motionless, peering through the hazy light to the trees above him as the ringing in his ears eased and the pain settled down to a more manageable level.

Daring to sit up, he waited as a bout of dizziness passed before looking about. To his left a relatively small crater was all that remained of the ground that had hidden the mine: a mine that it would seem hadn't exploded with the force he'd expected.

Leaning over the hole he shook his head. "Used a low charge of explosive otherwise I wouldn't be here. Nice, Shane. Wouldn't want it to end too soon now would we?" Harry asked as he pushed himself to his feet, almost crumbling to the ground when his left leg buckled under him. Sitting once more, he pulled his pants leg up and examined his left foot, flexing it experimentally and feeling the bones in his leg and foot. Satisfied the ankle had only been twisted in the blast and not broken he rose again and stopped for a moment as dizziness flooded through him. Leaning heavily on a nearby tree for support, he waited until his head cleared and he managed to make his way to the river.

Sitting on a boulder at the edge, he cupped his hands into the water and rinsed his mouth, then washed his face over and over, the chill water washing away the last vestiges of the fogginess from his brain.

He longed to drink from the river but knew there could be a multitude of water borne diseases that might be carried in the murky water: diseases he wanted no part of.

Getting to his feet, he was pleased the dizziness had passed and his headache had settled into a dull ache. Looking to the sky then his watch, he cursed when he saw he'd been unconscious for almost an hour. "Need to get going," he muttered as he headed off in what he hoped was a westerly direction.

As he walked, Harry glanced about constantly at the forest he found himself in, stopping by a particular tree; he looked up at the tall, gnarly tree before him.

"A white pine I believe. That coupled with the other trees I've seen reinforces my feeling that I'm somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Narrows down the possibilities at least. For all the good it does me. Knowing where I am does little to get me out of here."

His gaze followed the tall tree's trunk to the branches above him and he smiled as he saw several pine cones. Reaching as high as he could, he hurriedly collected several, then broke off several small branches containing pine needles.

"If only I had a bag or pack of some kind," he said thoughtfully as he stared down at the branches and cones.

Dropping the branches he'd collected, he stripped off the flannel and thermal shirts Shane had given him and his own t-shirt and seated himself on the ground. Placing the t-shirt on the ground before him, he took the sharp edged rock from his pocket and began to cut up the side of the t-shirt until he had one long piece of material. Looking about he noticed low hanging brush nearby. Rising, he cut long lengths of stingy vine with the rock and walked back to the shirt. Seating himself, he began to make jagged holes in the corners and sides of what had been a brand new t-shirt, then laced the vines through the holes. Pulling up on the vines produced a nice sized bag. Nodding to himself, he put back on the other shirts, took the pine cones and small branches and placed them in his new bag. Slinging the vine straps over one shoulder, he tested the weight and durability of his creation and nodded.

"There's dinner and a way to carry what I need," he joked as he picked up a few more pine cones from the base that appeared to not have opened yet. "Pine nuts and pine needle tea for dinner tonight at the very least. Hope I find something more substantial though."

Grabbing a few more pine boughs, he continued on, periodically taking a few of the needles and chewing them, sucking on them for their moisture before spitting the rest out.

Shortly, he came upon low hanging bushes laden with juicy berries and he hurried to them, knowing they were the nutrition and fluid his body was going to need. Staring at them for a long moment, he remembered the poem his survival training instructors had made them memorize: " _White and yellow, kill a fellow. Purple and blue, good for you. Red...could be good, could be dead."_ and stepped to them.

"Look like huckleberries," he said as he picked as many as he could, eating more than he put in his pack for later.

Refreshed, he headed off, watching carefully for more of Shane's surprises as he walked. He stopped every once in awhile to listen, hoping Shane was a man of his word in giving him the time he said he would to get away.

Twilight began to color the slight track he walked on in deepening shadows, making it difficult to see what was in front of him. As much as he wanted to continue on, he knew he needed to find some kind of shelter from the rapidly dropping temperature for the night, praying he had gone far enough away from where Shane had dropped him. Shelter and a fire to purify the water that rushed relentlessly by, tantalizing him and amplifying his growing, unbearable thirst, were necessities for the night.

Across the rushing stream, he spotted a possible site to make a camp for the night. Tree fall on the other side would make a cozy shelter with some quick modifications. And being on the other side of the stream was a good idea: one barrier to separate him from his pursuer. Crossing tonight would give him a chance to dry some things out, better than walking in wet clothes tomorrow, he reasoned.

Sitting on a nearby rock, he took off the heavy boots and socks, put the socks inside the boots and tied the laces together before flinging the boots about his neck. Glancing back at the path he'd walked he was satisfied he'd left no trace behind. Rolling his pants legs up, he stood and carefully inched his way into the rushing water, hissing as the frigid water closed over his aching feet. "Damn that's cold," he muttered as he slowly made his way across the rushing water that tore at his legs threatening to knock his feet out from under him.

Finally, he reached the far side and stumbled up the incline, slipping in the viscous mud that lined the slight slope and fell to his knees. Looking down at his hand that was covered in slime, he scraped it off his palm, then with a thoughtful look rolled it between his fingers and shaped it into a ball. Staring at it, he smiled. "Hmmm…clay. That may come in handy."

He stumbled to his feet and headed off up the incline until he came to a rather large pine tree that had fallen over, its base broken off about two feet from the ground and lying over. Harry nodded in satisfaction. "Good start for a shelter. Now all I need are some smaller branches to form walls and I'm set. But first, I need to make something to boil water in."

Sitting down by the fallen tree he took a stout branch and began digging in the loosely packed earth. After a few minutes, he'd managed to dig out a fair-sized hole then made his way to where he had found the clay and gathered some in his hands. Bringing it back, he lined the hole with the clay, pressing it together firmly.

"Now for the fire," he said as he looked about thoughtfully at his surroundings, trying to decide the best way to make fire. The setting sun was going to be no help. "Looks like my best bet is a bow drill. Harder to set up than a hand drill but easier on my hands for sure."

Gathering some dry branches, he broke some into thin pieces of kindling then made larger and larger pieces until he had a sizeable pile which he arranged into a triangle, putting some of the thin kindling at the bottom. As an afterthought, he reached in his bag and drew out Shane's letter and read it over again. "Nothing of value in that," he muttered as he rolled it into a thin tube and placed it by his side.

Walking to the stream, he gathered as many rocks as he could and took them back to his fire pit and arranged them in a circle close to where his fire would be.

"Now for the drill." Looking about, he found a piece of wood the perfect size to be the base of his drill, took the rock and did his best to carve the board until he had a fairly smooth piece that was approximately an inch thick and about three inches long and two wide. Placing it on the ground, he gouged out a small hole in the center, then took a long straight piece of wood for his spindle and carved both ends into stubby points, topping one end he would use as a handhold with a piece of wood that one of the sharpened ends fit into.

"All I need now is something to make the bow with." Rising, he went to a small tree, ripped off a green branch the width of his little finger and the length of his arm and bent it, smiling as it had just enough flex in it. Carefully, he split both ends slightly then went to where he'd left his boots by the clay pit. Pulling the shoelace from one, he quickly went back to his bow drill, gathering tinder of pine needles and strips of dry bark he found along the way.

Taking the shoelace, he tied one end into a knot and placed it in the split in the green branch snugging it down a bit to make sure it would stay then tied the other end into a knot and placed it in the split on the other end. Taking the bow he'd made, he wrapped the shoelace around the spindle until it was tight. Reaching in his bag, he pulled out some of the birch bark, shredded it into thin slivers and placed some along with some of the dry tinder he'd found under the hole in the base then put the spindle into the hole and grasped the handhold at the top

"Now, let's see what this gets me." Kneeling on the ground, the bow drill before him, he began sawing the bow back and forth, the shoelace rubbing rapidly against the spindle. After several tries and more than a few minutes, Harry saw smoke rise from the bottom of the spindle and he smiled. A few more minutes passed before he saw a spark. Grabbing some of the dry tinder, he placed it on the spark and leaned down to it, blowing gently. Taking Shane's note, he ignited the end and carefully placed it all in the center of the kindling, blowing gently until the pile began to catch fire. Placing small pieces of wood into the glowing embers, his fire grew until he was satisfied it was burning a few moments, he used two sticks to pick up a few pieces of burning coals, took them to the clay-rimmed hole and put them in, adding more tinder until he had another fire burning .

"That should harden nicely," he nodded in satisfaction. Fire was built, he had the makings of a pot to purify his water supply, he had a fair amount of berries for a meager dinner and he had the beginnings of a shelter. "Not bad, Nelson."

Taking only a moment to relish the warmth the fire he sat beside threw off, he restrung his boot with his shoelace and put his boots back on, then set about fixing up his shelter for the night by taking small branches and placing them along the sides of the fallen tree until both sides were covered. Hefting one particular stick in his hands, he smiled and laid it aside for later.

Walking a bit farther into the woods, he broke off pine branches, carrying them back and laying them over the upright branches to form a waterproof shelter then took more pine boughs and laid them inside to make a soft bed. With the shelter made and his fire close to a small opening he'd left to get in and out of, he set about purifying water.

"What could I use to carry the water from the river in?" he asked himself as he stood hands on hips in his campsite. Taking his handmade bag, he fingered the weave of the fabric material from his t-shirt and nodded.

"This might do." He carefully took out his stash of berries, pine needles and pinecones he'd collected throughout the day, taking the time to wrap the berries carefully in his handkerchief, before moving to the pit where he fished out the burned wood. Feeling the hardened sides of the trench carefully, he nodded then took the bag and went to the stream where he filled it with water. Hurrying back, he dumped the water into his charcoal pit. A few more trips and the pit was full. Using two sticks like tongs, Harry fished out a rock from his fire, carried it to the pit and placed it inside, smiling at the sizzling of the water.

When the hissing stopped, he pulled the rock out and put it back by the fire to heat again, and repeated the procedure with another until the water was boiling. He added a few of the smaller pine branches he had collected and laid them inside to boil then threw a handful of his berries in for added flavoring

As he waited for his "tea" to steep, he limped to the river's edge and peered into the eddy of water before him, searching for a fish or something to ease the gnawing in his stomach and was rewarded with a small pike that lazily swam in the current. He'd never actually tried spearing fish while on land but when his stomach let out a loud grumble, he figured now was a great time to start.

Taking the stick he'd set aside before, he quickly whittled the end into a sharp point with the rock. "Now not only do I have a spear for fishing, but protection. Let's see how well I remember the principles of spear fishing."

Lowering himself to the ground, he stretched out on the river's muddy beach and shortly spotted a few pike that had joined the smaller one. As he watched he turned his eyes to the sky and hoped the light held out for him.

Mentally reviewing the principle behind spearing fish, he aimed for one of the larger fish and missed. "Lower, Nelson," he whispered. "The fish are lower than you think. For every foot of depth of water, you need to compensate by aiming a foot closer to you. Refraction makes the fish appear farther away than it really is. Aim lower."

A few more tries and he successfully landed a large pike, placed it on the riverbank and tried for another. But the growing dusk hid his quarry from him and he rose, grabbed his dinner and headed back to his fire where he cleaned and gutted the fish as well as he could with his sharpened spear, skewered it on another stick and placed it over the fire to cook.

As he waited, he leaned over the water pit, pulled out the pine branches and sucked up the now cooled pine/berry tea inside, relishing the feel of the warm liquid sliding down his parched throat. Reaching in the pit, he scooped up the berry residue, sucking on his fingers to get every last bite then brought back more water and repeated his purifying process until his pit was full of clean water. "That's good for now, but what about tomorrow? How can I carry water with me with nothing to keep it in?"

Lost in thought on how to have a ready access to clean water, he turned his fish on the skewer, his eyes falling to a small pile of the birch bark by the fire. Picking a few strips up, he fingered them, trying to see how they could be the answer. Smiling, he laidthe strips out, sliced the bark into long slivers and began weaving the pieces into a rough basket shape. When he had what he considered the world's ugliest basket, he rose, grabbed a flaming stick from the fire to help him see through the darkening night and carefully made his way to the river where he gathered up more clay and headed back. Sitting by the fire, he coated the basket in the sticky clay and sat it by the fire to harden. Hopefully, he would have a way to carry water for the next day.

Reaching out for the fish sizzling over the embers, the rich fat dripping onto the hot coals sending up a delicious aroma, Harry ate it quickly, wishing he'd had more time to fish. After drinking the rest of the water in the pit, he purified more for the morning and filled the birch basket that was encased in hardening clay with as much water as he could, leaving the rest in the pit for the morning. Reaching in his bag, he drew out the pinecones he had taken and examined them closely. Unopened, they still contained the pine nuts within. Placing them near the fire, he sat back waiting until the heat from the fire opened the cones. With a stick, he pulled them out and pounded them on a rock until the seeds fell out. Eating a few, he put the rest in his pocket for later.

Assured he had done all he could to prepare for the next day, he sighed, stretching his abused muscles and cursed how lax his exercise routine had become as work took up more and more of his time. Exhaustion clouding his thoughts, he had just begun to drift off when he heard the sound of something moving through the brush nearby **.** Suddenly wide awake, he sat up; peering hard into the surrounding woods trying to see what had made the noise, hoping it wasn't Shane

His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he searched for the source of the sound, finally spotting bright eye shine down by the river. Looking closely, he saw a fair-sized black bear staring back at him and he froze. The two stared at each other for what seemed like hours to Nelson before the bear, apparently deciding he either wasn't worth his time or growing bored, grunted and crossed the river.

Harry let out a big sigh as he listened to the sound of the bear moving through the bushes on the far side of the river and relaxed. Turning back to his shelter, he stared at the pile of wood he had accumulated, hoping it was enough to get through the night then added more wood to the fire as a warning to any other wondering animals that he was there before laying down again inside his shelter. Pulling the hastily constructed spear to his side, he smiled at the modicum of security he felt. Shane was right. He was out of his element here. Give him an angry shark or an inquisitive whale and he would know what to do. Here he was feeling himself to be a mere amateur.

"But an amateur that is learning, remembering old lessons, Shane. You won't win."

Settling back, the crackling of the fire and the aroma of wood smoke briefly calmed him before his thoughts turned to the next day. Shane would be on his trail, assuming he hadn't lied, by noon. He had to put as much distance as he could between them. Only problem was, he had no idea where Shane would actually start his "hunt". Would he start where he'd left him? Or some place closer? Did he know where he was even now? Could he some how see him? Was one of his 'associates' even now watching him? As if he could feel eyes on him, he shivered then in a fit of disgust grabbed some of the remaining berries he had gathered throughout the day and ate a few, leaving the rest for tomorrow. Staring at the fire, he listened closely for any other interlopers to his small kingdom before drifting into an uneasy sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Since the last chapter was short, here's another! Thanks for the reviews!

A raucous call of birds broke the hold sleep held on Nelson and he awoke with a start, dawn just beginning to color the sky.

"Damn," Nelson whispered as he struggled to shake off the lethargy the restless night's sleep had left him with. "Should have been up and gone by now."

Rising, he quickly went to the pit and drank what was in the hole then took a few leaves from a nearby bush and laid them over the top of the now hardened clay basket. Looking about, he found a long stringy vine that he used to tie the "lid" on. Satisfied, he at least had some water for the day; he set to work deconstructing his camp. He filled in the water pit with dirt and rocks, smoothing the dirt down, then took the branches that had made up the walls of his shelter and the soft pine boughs, dragged them to the swiftly moving river and threw them in, watching in satisfaction as they either sank or were carried downstream. Walking back, he scattered the rocks from the smoldering fire and drowned the coals with water from the stream before kicking the remnants about once he was sure the coals were cold. Gathering some pine needles and leaf litter, he scattered it over the area, hiding his presence.

Staring intently at what had been his home for the night, he was satisfied little evidence remained to alert Shane he had been there. Grabbing his water, he put it carefully in the bag, hoping he had at least some left for later. Taking his bow drill, he added it to the bag, and stood up, smiling slightly.

"Not bad," he whispered. Looking to the sky that was already brightening, he shouldered the bag, grabbed a stout branch he had used in his shelter the night before to use as a walking stick, took his spear and headed off, sticking to the rocks that littered this side of the river as much as he could to hide his tracks. As he walked, his thoughts turned to home and his friends. He had no idea if Shane would actually carry out his plan to hurt the twins or his friends but he couldn't take the chance. Shane was unbalanced enough that he might have actually taken the boys. He knew he needed to do whatever he could to keep them safe. And that meant finding his way out and back to civilization.

~00~

Bright light blazed through the curtains in the admiral's spacious office, an incessant ringing waking Lee Crane from a troubled sleep. Stumbling his way to the offending noise, he picked up the phone's receiver and muttered a sleep-tinged, "What…I mean hello."

"Crane! What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, Admiral Starke. I fell asleep in the admiral's office last night. I didn't want to be away from his phone in case there was any news."

"Well, I guess I understand."

"Do you have any information?" Lee asked in a less sleepy voice.

"I may actually. Nothing's for sure but we did get a hit on something. Not positive it's related to Harriman's disappearance, but it may be."

"Can you tell me what?"

"I'm in Los Angeles right now. I have a meeting back in Washington later today but I'm on my way to the Institute as we speak. Get your people together. I'll be there in less than an hour and will fill you all in then."

"Admiral, can you just tell me…"

"I said I would discuss it when I get there!" he snapped then in a more calm voice added, "Things are in motion to find Harriman. I have a few calls out that I'm awaiting an answer to. I should be able to brief you on what we've found out when I get there. Grab a shower and some coffee, Crane. I need you all to be alert."

"Aye sir," he said unhappily as he put the phone down, staring at it in thought for a time until he heard a gentle throat clearing and looked up to see Chip standing just inside the door with a quizzical look on his face.

"You all right?" he asked as he came in the office.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just got a call from Starke. He's on his way here. Said he had information but didn't want to tell me over the phone."

"Well, that's good!" Chip said.

"Yeah. Maybe," Lee agreed listlessly. "Or the news he has isn't good news."

"News? What news?"

Both men turned to see Angie Wood, hope written on her face standing there.

"Admiral Starke may have some information for us. He's on his way here. Said he had a few calls he needed responses to before he told us whatever it is he found out," Lee answered quietly. "Look, I need a shower and something to eat. I'll…"

"I'll have coffee made by the time you're done and I'll send down to the cafeteria for food. Go," Angie ordered, using a shooing motion.

"All right. Lots of coffee."

"Yes, Captain. Lots of coffee. Go."

A short hour later, they were notified Starke was on NIMR grounds and headed for Nelson's office where Lee, Chip, and Angie waited anxiously.

"Admiral. What is it? What have you found out?" Lee asked almost before the heavy-set admiral was through the door to the outer office.

"Crane. I just got here. A cup of coffee would be nice," he purred sweetly as he threw a quick glance to Angie who hurriedly grabbed a cup, filled it with the dark brew and handed it to him, knowing he took his coffee the way Admiral Nelson did: dark, unsweetened and lethal.

A quick swallow of Angie's coffee had Starke sighing in appreciation before gesturing to the office of his friend. "Let's talk in Harriman's office," he ordered, preceding the officers inside.

Angie turned to head to her desk but was stopped by Starke's brusque, "You too, Miss Wood. Harriman's safety and his whereabouts are your concern, also."

Surprised, Angie muttered a weak, "Yes sir," and followed the men inside.

"What have you found out?" Lee asked anxiously as he settled himself in a chair by Nelson's desk.

Starke began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back for a few seconds before he stopped and seated himself on the edge of Nelson's desk. "Nothing I say is confirmed. It's all supposition. This doesn't come from any of the international intelligence agencies we've been in contact with but rather from ONI."

"What has, sir?" Chip asked leaning forward in interest.

"Have you ever heard Harriman talk about a man by the name of Shane Caldwell?"

Lee looked to Chip then Angie and all three shook their heads. "Who is he?" Lee asked.

"Shane and Harriman were ONI agents years ago. More than that, they were good friends. They were ordered to go on a mission for ONI about ten years ago I think. It was very top secret and at the time, thought to be vital to national security. Shane's brother, Simon, was also part of the team as were two men named Gareth Adams and Andre Beauvais. Both Adams and Beauvais are dead. Gareth was murdered about a year ago by a knife in the back. Andre was in a car accident about six months ago. Coroner's report reads suspicious. He had taken a blow to the head prior to the accident. It's not certain if he died from the blow or from the accident."

"What does this have to do with the admiral?" Lee asked.

"We believe that Shane Caldwell blames Harriman for his little brother's death. Simon was shot and killed on that mission. He was shot by Harriman."

"What? Why? Why would Admiral Nelson…?"

"Listen for a minute then you may ask questions. Shane and his brother were traitors but we didn't have any idea until they turned on Harriman and his team. They double-crossed Harriman, Andre and Gareth along with two other agents on the team. The other two…Ben Gates and Juan Dominguez…were shot in the back during the mission. According to Harriman's statement, Shane shot them just as they had retrieved the information they had been sent for. Harriman, Adams and Beauvais returned fire and Harriman took a bullet to the leg. That slowed the three up but they managed to follow the brothers and tracked them down. They were ambushed and returned fire. Harriman's bullet hit Simon. Shane threw a grenade and Adams and Beauvais were hit by shrapnel. Not bad but enough that they couldn't keep up. Harriman went on by himself and tracked the brothers but lost them. He searched as long as he could before he gave up and headed back to the other two. We were never certain what happened to the Caldwells until recently."

"Recently?"

"When both Andre and Gareth died suspiciously, it sent alarm bells going off in ONI. Although the case was cold, the Deputy Director remembered it and began to investigate. An agent by the name of Watkins also remembered the mission and was extremely reluctant to divulge the particulars citing the sensitivity of the case but was convinced to speak up. What I'm about to reveal stays here," he admonished, looking at each of them in turn knowing Crane and Morton had top secret clearance while Angie was a trusted member of Harry's team.

"Of course," Lee said.

"Watkins remembered the mission as I said. Harriman and his team were to infiltrate a small city in Russia near the border with The People's Republic and obtain certain intelligence from an agent there and return with the information. What it was Watkins refused to say but whatever the Intel was, was bogus."

"Bogus? What..."

"The mission was a diversion, Crane. The focus would be on Harriman and his group. Not the real mission. _They_ would take the fire. _They_ would take responsibility if they were caught. Thing is, Harriman to this day believes _his_ mission was the real mission. They all believed it. He never knew that he and his team had been set up with false information. Gates, Dominguez and now Adams andBeauvais lost their lives and two men defected for bogus Intel."

"I hope it was worth it," Crane snarled.

"I've been assured the ruse was not only necessary but successful. An agent in The PR was convinced to divulge the story of what happened to the Caldwells when they got to The PR with the bogus Intel, Intel the Caldwell brothers didn't know wasn't legit. They had apparently decided ahead of time that once the information was received, they would take it and sell it to an agent they had contacted in The People's Republic. When The PR purchased the information, then found out the Intel was a lie, well…let's just say Caldwell was not treated well. According to the agent, Simon had died shortly before he and Shane had been picked up by The PR and Shane, according to this agent, was put into a prison camp. A year and a half ago, he was released."

"And you think he's taking his revenge on those he thinks are to blame?" Chip asked.

"That's the theory. Other than Caldwell, Gareth, Andre and Harriman were the only surviving members of the operation. Now, it's just Harriman."

"Suppose all this is true. Suppose this Caldwell has some wild revenge plan on the admiral. Where is he? Is he alive?" Lee asked, his heart in his throat as he thought of all the possibilities.

Starke got up, walked behind Nelson's desk and threw himself into his chair. "We don't know. With Andre and Gareth's deaths, it would seem likely Harriman was also killed but we don't know for sure. And until we have a body, we assume he's alive."

"But where?" Angie asked, trying to hold in tears as she thought of her boss being dead at the hands of some revenge-filled maniac.

"Don't know the answer to that, Miss Wood. Caldwell hasn't been seen. Only a handful even knew he had been in a PR prison much less that he had just been released from one **.** The FBI is looking into Caldwell's whereabouts and trying to establish a paper trail. But he's good. Hell, Harriman was the agent that trained him! He's not going to be easy to find."

"So what do we do?" Angie asked in a small voice.

"Wait," Starke replied. "Wait and pray someone finds something that will tell us, first, if Caldwell is behind this and second, where he took Harriman."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

 _Thanks for all the kind reviews. And thanks to Mila, Nans, and SeaSoul whom I haven't been able to thank by PM!_

Morning passed quickly as Harriman Nelson walked as quickly as he could through the forest. On the sea he was comfortable, proficient. But on land and in an unfamiliar forest, he found that although he enjoyed the woods, he was better suited to having the salt air in his nostrils and a blue sea around him.

As the morning passed, he drank sparingly from the birch bark container that surprisingly held water quite well and with minimal leakage. A few more berries he found on the way served as a meager late breakfast. Shane had chosen as good a time as he could for the little game they were playing. Summer's bounty of berries and other plants he found along the way was fueling his jaunt through the woods but his body craved protein.

By early afternoon, Harry was beginning to fully feel the effects of dehydration and hunger. Although he had water, it wasn't nearly the amount he needed to replace what he was losing in perspiration. The handful of berries and pine nuts he'd consumed were not enough to keep him from feeling dizzy and lethargic. Spotting a birch tree, something he hadn't seen many of on his chosen trail, he headed for it and sliced a few triangles in the bark doing his best to suck up all the liquid that flowed from the slashes. When the flow stopped he made more gashes until he began to feel refreshed and his thirst somewhat eased.

A few more hours of trudging brought him to an area where the river, flowing swiftly, had eroded away the bank on both sides so that it had all but disappeared. Trees grew densely near the edges and low prickly vines and bushes grew thickly. Searching quickly, he saw no easy way through either side and decided to stay on the side of the river he was on and veer into the woods; heading in what he hoped was a more southerly direction. As he moved farther from the river, he grew concerned for what he would use for water but hoped he would find some soon or be able to make his way back to the river by nightfall.

After another hour of hiking, Harry emerged from the heavy, thick woods into a swampy meadow that had a small pond in its center. Ringing the pond was a healthy looking stand of cattails. Smiling to himself at his unexpected food source, he sloshed through the wetland to the nearest stand of plants. Kneeling at the edge, he reached to the bottom of one of the cattails, grabbed it and pulled it free of the ground. Grabbing the green leaves of the plant, he pulled down and exposed the white succulent center of the stalk. Taking the rock, he sliced it into sections and popped some into his mouth as he worked to gather more.

"Hmmm...not bad. Tastes similar to celery. Or maybe cucumber."

After a few minutes of work, he took the plants he had harvested, cut off the roots and young shoots from the base of the plants and placed it all into his bag.

He rose and began to move to the other side of the pond when suddenly an excruciating pain shot through his lower leg. Screaming in agony, he fell to the ground and grabbed his leg, pulling it free from the muck. Locked tightly about the lower part of his leg just above his ankle was a large animal trap that was firmly embedded in his calf.

Lying back, he tried to control his breathing, waiting until the pain had regressed to a more manageable level before sitting up and staring at the trap in dismay.

"Another of your surprises," he muttered darkly, cursing his lack of attention to his surroundings as he focused his thoughts on freeing himself without doing further damage. "Looks like a coil spring trap. Two springs…two levers holding the trap closed. If I can get it open far enough, I may be able to slip my leg out." He shuddered at the thought the trap could spring closed again if he couldn't open it far enough.

Reaching down, he grasped the levers on either side of the trap, took a deep breath and began pushing down on them with all his strength. Slowly the trap slid open until the opening was large enough for him to pull his leg free. With a snap the trap sprang shut. Harry lay back against the wet grass struggling to control his breathing as the pain intensified.

Pulling himself back onto drier land, he pulled up his pants leg. Bright red blood ringed his lower leg just above the top of his boot that had deep gouges up the sides and was profoundly glad Shane had given him the heavy footwear. Anything with less ankle protection would have broken his leg at the very least.

Closing his eyes to the pain that filled him, he tried hard to think of what he could remember about cattails, knowing there was a wealth of uses for the whole plant. "Something about the bottom of the plant. Something about using a part of it as an antiseptic," he muttered as he watched the blood run down his foot and into his boot. "What…what was it?"

Crawling to the stand of plants, he ran his hand over a stalk. Looking down at the base of the stem of one of the plants, he noticed a honey-colored substance. Reaching down, he took some of the fluid on his fingers and rolled it back and forth. "Good for treating wounds. Has antiseptic properties if I remember my survival training."

Gathering more of the liquid, he slathered it on the gashes then took a root from one of the plants and crushed it until the material was large enough to wrap his injured leg in, then sliced the top off one of his long heavy socks and wrapped it about the wounds.

Feeling a wave of dizziness envelop him, he took a few swallows from his water and rose unsteadily, favoring his twice injured left leg. His walking stick, spear and bag in hand, he began to limp his way through the sticky mud that sucked at his boots, his mind turning to what he needed to do. Looking to his watch he saw that it was well past the deadline Shane had set and he knew he was following him somehow, some way.

How had he placed that trap at just the spot he had? Was he or one of his people watching him by some means? He glanced about at the endless forest that stretched in front of him and shook his head. It didn't seem possible. If he was near, he would have ended the hunt by now. Perhaps the snare had been a part of someone's trap line and he'd merely had the misfortune of putting his foot in it. Once through the meadow and back to the forest, he began heading to where he hoped he would intersect the river.

A few more hours of walking brought him to a small creek that seemed to flow in the direction he thought the river was. Limping to it, he threw himself down on the sandy bank, cupped his hands into the icy water and washed his face and neck over and over, relishing the feel of the water on his parched, sun burnt skin. Laying his head on his arms he rested, thinking what his next move would be. Rolling over he gazed into the slowly darkening sky and glanced to his watch, surprised to see the hours had flown by. Full dark was a mere hour or two away and he needed shelter and a more substantial food source than the berries, pine nuts and cattails he'd feasted on all day.

Turning over onto his stomach, he gazed into the surprisingly clear water. A movement out of the corner of his eye showed him a small group of minnows. Not big, but they were protein. Further searching showed no other occupants of the slowly moving stream. "Better than nothing I suppose. Now to catch a few."

Sitting up, he took off his flannel shirt and put it beside him. Sitting by the stream once more, he put the shirt in the water, then placed a few pieces of his cattails in the center. Holding on to the edges of the shirt, he waited, sitting as still as he could and doing his best to not to feel the cold that seeped into his hands.

Several minutes passed before the minnows flitted back into view, and several more minutes passed before they edged closer to the bait. Harry smiled when he saw the school begin to nibble on the sweet cattails. When most of the small fish were in the trap, he yanked the shirt from the water bringing the majority of the young fish with him.

Turning, he quickly grabbed a rock and hit the flopping fish, killing them.

"Well, that's dinner. That and a few cattail shoots and some berries. Maybe I can find more pinecones or set a snare. A nice rabbit would taste good right about now. First I need shelter though. Not much in the way of protection," he mused, trying to find something when his eyes fell on a fallen tree with a large root ball sticking up.

Looking to the sky, he knew he had little time to make a better shelter than what was before him. He rose and picked up his soaking wet shirt and his fish from the ground. Hobbling to the fallen tree, he wrung the shirt out and laid it over the edge of the root ball in a small pool of sunlight to dry then headed to a nearby stand of pine trees, disheartened to find no closed pine cones on the tree or under it. Gathering a few of the fallen branches from the grove and a few lengths of vines he found nearby, he looked about furtively and made his way back. Placing the branches along the side of the root ball, he made walls for his hasty shelter. Heading back to the stand of trees, he broke off some low hanging pine branches and carried them back, laying them on the hard dirt to make a bed. Hands on his hips, he stared down at his room for the night. "It'll do. Question for tonight is, fire or no fire?"

Knowing Shane was on his trail already, he hesitated to start a fire. But his pant legs, still wet from the cattail pond, and his flannel shirt wet from his fishing expedition coupled with the cold breeze beginning to blow in from the north, made him decide to risk a small fire. Far back under the root ball, he sliced off some of the driest wood he could find. That along with wood he found sheltered under the towering pine trees nearby would suffice to at least cook the meager array of fish on the bank near him and hopefully dry his clothes without sending up too much in the way of smoke.

Taking dry pine needles he'd gathered for kindling and a few small branches, he laid his fire, then set to work putting his bow drill back together. A few minutes later, he had a small but satisfying fire burning. His small catch of minnows skewered on a small branch, roasted over the burning embers sending heavenly aromas into the night air while his wet shirt hung from branches near the fire. Taking his clay pot from his bag, he drank all of the water inside, filled the container again from the stream and walked back to the fire.

Hefting the misshapen pot he'd constructed in his hands, he examined it closely, his hands running over the rough clay that had hardened over the birch bark basket. Looking to the blaze then back to his container, he placed it carefully on the edge, smiling as he saw the flames envelop the pot but not burn it. A short time later he saw the water inside begin to boil and he knew he would have water for the night and the next day. Snipping a few small pine stems, he laid them in the pot to make tea.

Taking a few of the cattail stalks, he laid them at the edge of the fire to roast then lay back against the dirt wall behind him and thought of home, wondering what his friends were doing. Did they know what had happened to him by now? Did anyone have a clue that Shane Caldwell, his one time friend, had taken him from the boys' birthday party? Were the boys all right, safe and sound in Mandy's arms right now? Or had Shane really taken them as he'd said?

As he thought of the boys, the video he had seen passed through his mind and he felt a niggling in his brain once more. Something about the video bothered him but he could not place what it was. How could Shane have taken the boys from the party with all the people that had been there? _He_ had walked into his capture blindly but the boys had been surrounded by family and friends. The more he thought about it, the more he began to believe Shane had lied. But could he take that chance? Could he take the chance that Shane didn't really have the boys? Could he take the chance he'd lied to get him to play his game?

"I've got to keep running. I can't take the chance that he doesn't really have Dylan and Sean," he muttered. "I can't...I won't...let him hurt you two. Not if I can in any way help it. But right now, Shane holds all the cards. He knows the lay of the land, where his traps are and more importantly, where this civilization he talked of was. So for now, I run. Or hobble. When I find help, maybe I can call home quickly to find out if the boys are safe. Then...then I'll chase you down, Shane. That I promise you."

Sighing, he reached for his meager dinner, slowly eating the crispy minnows, dug the cattails from the coals and consumed them, all the while longing for a thick steak, baked potato and long neck bottle of beer.

Finished with his dinner, he drank the still warm tea, went to the stream and filled the container once more with water. Placing it on the fire he sat back and waited for the water to be purified. Taking a long length of the vines he'd gathered, he set to work making a snare. Tying one end into a small slip knot, he then took the opposite end of the vine and pulled it through the knot until he had a circle 6 to 7 inches across. Putting his hand inside the circle, he pulled and smiled as the circle enclosed about his hand.

"Now to find a good spot to lay it."

Getting to his feet, he went back into the woods, looking for any indication that rabbits or any other animal frequented the area and found what looked like it might be a trail. Harry took two sticks, notched them both at the top and pushed them into the ground about a foot apart then laid another branch into the notches and tied the noose to the cross branch, widening it a bit and left it hang.

"Hopefully tomorrow morning I'll have breakfast."

Wearily he began to head back to his fire when the chilling howl of a wolf pierced the night air and he stopped, listening for any indication others were near. The long bay of the first was echoed by another farther away and Harry shivered at the thought of being stalked by a pack of wolves. Hurrying back to his fire, he quickly removed the boiling water from the fire, wrapped leaves over the lid and set it aside for the morning, then built up the fire a bit, it's comforting glow settling his jangled nerves.

Snatching a large flaming stick, he held it out to the darkness, looking for any signs of the pack and saw nothing. The air, still and cool, did its best to not hide the approach of any living thing. After a few minutes and a few more howls of the pack that indicated they were moving away from his camp, he settled himself to the ground and sighed, once again wishing he was confronted with the problem of some marine animal over terrestrial ones.

Taking a few shorter sticks from his pile of firewood, he took the rock from his pocket and began to carve them into short spikes. When he had a half dozen, he placed them by his side then lay back in his shelter.

Curling onto his side, he watched the small fire flicker as the wood turned to glowing embers. With Shane's whereabouts unknown, he knew he couldn't risk building the fire up. There would be no blazing fire tonight to keep him company. No fire to push back the darkness or warn wandering animals of his presence.

"If it was just me against you, Shane, I would wait for you and fight you. But I can't take the chance that you don't have the boys."

With a sigh, he pulled a few pine branches over him for warmth, drew his stout walking stick and spear to him and slipped into an uneasy sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 _Sorry I didn't get this up last night! Thanks for the reviews!_

Dawn had yet to begin coloring the surrounding woods with its muted rays when Harry awoke with a start, the nightmare he'd been enduring of the O'Brien twins' death fading slowly. Stretching his arms over head, he groaned as his injured leg and ankle throbbed in beat with his heart. Sitting up slowly, he gently peeled the bandage of sock and cattail root from the wounds, checking for any sign of infection.

"Slightly red but not bad. Bleeding's stopped at least."

He quickly drained the water in his pot before rising and hobbling to the stream bed where he filled it with more water. Just as he was about to head back, he spotted a cluster of plants and made his way to them, smiling when he recognized watercress growing in the stream. Gathering all he could find, he walked back to his campsite with his unexpected discovery.

Building up his banked fire slightly, he sat the pot on the embers and waited for it to boil then proceeded to eat some of the watercress, saving some for later, and frowned at its mustardy flavor.

"Now I remember why I don't like Edith's watercress sandwiches," he grumped but continued to chew on the plant.

Grabbing his bag, he took out a few of the cattail leaves that he had taken from the pond and laid them on the edges of his fire. While he waited for them to turn to ash, he hobbled into the woods to check his snare and found it empty. Disgusted, he took the vine snare from the branches and headed back to his camp doing his best to ignore the raw gnawing in his stomach.

Snatching a few cattails and berries from his dwindling stash, he ate quickly then removed his pot from the fire, setting it aside to cool. Taking the leaf ash carefully from the fire, he applied it to the cuts to use as an antiseptic. Reaching for his bag, he took more of the cattail root and pounded it until he had made another covering for the wounds. Cutting off the top of his other sock he tied it all around his leg. For just a moment he sat still, trying to gather the energy to move.

Irritated with his sluggishness, he grunted, grabbed his pot and put it in his bag, then took his now dry flannel shirt from its place by the fire and put it on. Rising, he looked longingly at the stream where a few minnows and a few larger fish were lazily swimming in the early morning sun but knew he had no time for more fishing.

"I've got to get a move on before Shane finds me." He cleaned up his campsite as quickly and thoroughly as he could; hiding even the slightest evidence he's spent the night there. With one more wistful look at the meal swimming so close to him, he gathered up the remainder of his "possessions" and headed off, hoping he found the river he'd followed the day before.

~000~

Morning passed quickly into afternoon, the sun shining through the tall trees above speckling the trail in front of Harry as he trudged along, hoping he'd find the river again soon. Without it he wasn't sure which way he should be headed. Over the course of the morning, he'd found a few birch trees and had sucked as much of the sap as he could and gathered more pine needles for tea, knowing the needles were high in vitamins: vitamins his body needed.

The throbbing in his ankle and leg reminded him to keep his eyes peeled for more of Shane's unwanted surprises and was rewarded shortly after noon when he spotted something that didn't look right off the trail. Leaves of a low bushy shrub were dried and withered as if they had been broken or torn recently. Inching closer, Harry saw just the tip of an arrow sticking out of the brown vegetation.

"Looks like luck is on my side today, Shane." Taking his walking stick, he triggered the trap, the air whistling as the arrow sped from the brush and imbedded itself into a tree about chest high on the other side of the trail.

"You're not playing around any longer, are you, Shane?" Walking to the tree, he removed the still quivering arrow from the tree and put it in his bag. "That was a kill shot."

Knowing he needed to continue to be cautious, he continued on. Not long after his narrow escape from the arrow trap he heard the distant roar of what he hoped was the river and he limped towards it.

A few minutes later he pushed his way through the last of the thick woods, and stared in dismay at the river in front of him. The swiftly running river from before had transformed into a raging, angry torrent. Swirling pools eddied on the bank across from him, but the rest of the river gushed past him in a hurried pace. Listening, Harry understood the change in the river as he heard the distinct roar of a waterfall and felt the vibration beneath his feet.

Taking his time, he moved cautiously along the bank and shortly found the brink of the falls. Moving closer he peered over the edge of the rim and watched the river disappear over a cliff, cascading down in an approximately fifty foot drop. Not an enormous waterfall, but one he doubted he would survive intact if he fell over. Watching the angered river frothing as it flowed closer to the waterfall, he knew there was no way he could cross it safely. With only one good leg to support him, he also knew he couldn't take the chance of trying to navigate his way down the rock wall below him. As he watched, a section of rock, rotted by ages of weathering, broke free and fell clattering to the rocks below.

"Not going take the chance the same thing happens to me," he muttered as he moved along the rim a bit, looking for another way down and finding none. Before he could turn back to the trail that rimmed the canyon he heard a gunshot ring out and felt a searing pain in his left arm.

Spun to the ground, he lost hold of his cane and spear, cursing as he watched them fall over the edge of the canyon. Pulling himself behind an outcropping of rocks, he waited.

"That was too easy, Harry!" Shane's jubilant voice called out. "I thought you would make a better adversary. Perhaps you spend too much time behind a desk!"

"Maybe I do," he yelled back. "But your little hunt wasn't exactly fair now, was it? Even if you knew the lay of the land as I suspect you do, it should have taken you far longer to get here than it did! Plus, you knew I would come this way, didn't you? That's why all the traps!"

Shane's harsh laughter echoed off the canyon walls, making it difficult for Harry to figure out where the man was. "I did actually know you would choose this way! I know you! You trained me or have you forgotten that fact? You always said to follow the nearest water course to civilization! And you did exactly that! And the cattails were Heaven sent, weren't they? When I saw them I just knew you would head straight for them. So predictable. And as you said, I am quite familiar with this area. I have a cabin…the very cabin you were in...near here."

"And you started from the exact spot you left me in? Or did you run ahead?"

"I did have the advantage on you I admit, but as I said, I know you, and I know how good you are at...well everything. I needed an advantage. So since it was my game, I made the rules."

Harry cocked his head, listening to Shane's words, his voice coming not from his right as it had been but more straight in front of him: he was hunting him. "You mean you cheated!"

"Cheat is a strong word, Harry. I prefer to think I took advantage of the situation."

"A situation you created!" Harry called as he quietly shifted away from the outcropping and moved right, trying to get behind Shane.

"You must be quite hungry and very thirsty. I did however expect you to make it more of a challenge for me."

"Then why not show yourself and we can fight like men, not animals?"

"I know how good you are at hand to hand, Harry. Why would I give you a chance? Did Simon have a chance?" Shane yelled, his voice echoing off the rocks, making it difficult to pinpoint where he was.

"Simon had a chance, he chose wrong. He chose to follow his gutless older brother," Harry yelled, hoping to make Shane angry enough to show himself.

"Gutless! What do you know about me? About Simon?"

Hearing the snap of a twig to his left, Harry crouched down, waiting. Barely breathing, he quietly pulled one of the sharpened sticks he'd carved the night before from his pocket. Tensing, he heard Shane moving closer and prepared to strike.

"Come on now, Harry. Stand up and let's get this over with."

Peering around the rock he hid behind, Harry watched Shane inch closer, his hands loosely holding a high powered hunting rifle as he peered about him.

When he was close enough, Harry suddenly launched himself at Shane, knocking the rifle from his hands and sending it skittering away into the woods. Landing a punch to Shane's face, he almost laughed at the surprised look that filled his face.

"Not so sure of yourself one on one are you, Shane?" he asked as he wrestled him to the ground, the stick pressed into Shane's neck. "Give me one reason to not slice your throat. One reason."

"Go ahead, Harry," Shane said quietly as his body relaxed and his hands fell away from Harry. "Get it over with. Live with the knowledge you killed both Caldwell boys. Do it!"

Harry lips curled in disgust as he pushed harder. "You don't know how much I want to right now," Harry growled, his hands shaking. "Answer me this…are Dylan and Sean safe?"

Shane began to laugh, the stick pricking the skin on his neck and causing a thin thread of blood to run down his neck. "Sean and Dylan…I can't tell you that, Harry. They were last I saw but…" he shrugged.

"Damn you," he whispered. "If anything happens to them I will kill you. Why couldn't you have kept it between us? Those boys are innocent."

"Not if they have contact with you. Their father isn't innocent nor is their mother. I must admit, it would be hard to order them killed but…"

Fear for the boys flared through Harry and he fought the urge to push the stick in all the way. If Shane died, the boys might also die. And he couldn't take that chance.

Sensing Harry's indecision Shane suddenly lashed out, landing a blow to the side of Harry's head, staggering him. Before he could recover, Shane flipped him off of him and to the side. Before Harry could rise, Shane was on him, his hands around his throat as he tried his best to strangle him. Feeling the strength begin to drain from him as he fought for breath, Harry brought his right hand up and punched Shane in the nose then rolled, straddling Shane and using the palm of his hand to smash his nose again, smiling at Shane's cry.

"Are the boys all right," he asked again as he pressed his elbow against Shane's throat.

"I...I won't tell you. You figure it out," he managed to say just as he clapped both hands over Harry's ears, causing him to bellow in pain. Pushing Harry off him, Shane rose, standing over him for a second before he reached down and pulled Harry to his feet, landing several quick jabs to Harry's unprotected stomach, knocking him to the ground again.

Shane stood, hands on his knees and panting as Harry scrambled to his feet and came after him, anger marring his face. Before he got close, Shane landed a blistering punch to Harry's face and followed up with an uppercut to his chin. Staggering backwards, Harry felt his feet slip on the crumbling edge of the canyon walls and before he could stop himself, fell over the rim.

Landing hard on the unforgiving rocks, he bounced his way down the side of the gorge and landed in the rushing water close to the base of the falls, disappearing quickly under the water.

From the ravine top, Shane raced to the edge and watched as Harry hit the water and disappeared. Looking down the gorge he watched for any sign he had survived the fall but saw nothing but the rushing, frothing of the river that spread out from the base of the falls.

"I need to know you're dead," he muttered as he found his rifle and with one last look into the ravine, followed a path down that Harry hadn't noticed.

Reaching the bottom, he looked up and down the raging river's banks, trying to see his adversary. "Where are you, Nelson?" he yelled. "That was too easy of an ending between us! Damn it! Where are you?"

Enraged at having his foe snatched from him before he had thoroughly vented his anger, he headed off towards the falls, its roar drowning out all sound but the raging water coursing over the precipice. Stopping by the base, the mist from the falls hitting him, he stared about, looking to the far shore but saw nothing. Deciding to follow the bank away from the falls, he began to head off downstream, searching the rocky shoreline for any sign of the man whose death he eagerly awaited.

~000~

Angie Wood sat listlessly at her desk, her phone trapped against her left ear as she listened to the person on the other end of the line complain about how they needed to speak to Admiral Nelson now about their project proposal response that was overdue and why wasn't he available?

Lazily, she wrote the number 3 over and over again on her notepad as she waited for an opening in the conversation to tell the man on the other end of the line what she had been telling people for three days now: Admiral Nelson will get back to you when he can and not before. Or at least a nicer version of that.

Finally, the illustrious Dr. Jos Davidenas, head of some world renowned research facility or other paused for a breath and Angie pounced on her opportunity. "As I've already told you, Dr. Davidenas, I will have Admiral Nelson call as soon as he is available. You will be the first person he calls, I assure you. The admiral is very interested in your work and your proposal and will be in contact. Yes, thank you. Goodbye."

All but slamming the phone down in irritation, she looked to her pad filled with 3s and ripped the sheet off, crumpled it and threw it in her waste can. Three days. It had been three days and no word. How could he have just disappeared? The birthday party was supposed to be a happy affair but now, it was just a reminder of how quickly things could change, for all of them.

Restless, she got up and paced about the outer office to Admiral Nelson's, pausing every once in awhile as if she heard the phone ring. Frustrated, she left and went a few doors down to Lee Crane's office. Stopping outside she looked in to see him sitting with his head in his hands, worry and fear written in his posture.

"Knock, knock," she joked as she leaned on the door frame.

Looking up, he quickly wiped the anxiety from his face and smiled. "How's it going?" he asked.

"Same. People want to talk to the admiral and they want to talk to him now. I keep saying the same thing over and over. 'He'll be in contact soon'. I only hope it's the truth," she finished quietly.

Lee rose from his desk and walked to her, enveloping her in his arms. "It is. Something will break soon."

"I hope so. But..."

"But?" he asked when she stopped as if she didn't want to voice the thought she'd stopped from coming out her mouth.

"I've had a lot of time to think and I keep thinking about Shane Caldwell being released from the PR prison and I wonder why. Was it that his time was up or...or did they release him so that he could bring the admiral to them?"

Lee sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. It had been a thought that he had spent many a sleepless hour over: a thought he had no answer for. "I don't know, Angie. I admit I've had the same thought. Admiral Starke has had the same thought. Chip has had the same thought. So have the authorities. But there's no evidence, no Intel, no information, and no word from any international agency that the admiral was the victim of a kidnapping. There's no proof he was taken for ransom or captured for the information he possesses or his knowledge."

"I know. I know. I've heard those exact same words but I just can't help feeling useless, powerless. Something happened to him and no one knows what!"

"I know. Believe me."

"Have you talked to Bobby or Mandy?" Angie asked knowing the two were upset about what had happened and rightfully so.

"I did earlier today. They're hanging in there. They're waiting for someone with answers to call them just as we are."

The shrill ringing of the phone had both jumping. "Crane here," Lee called into the phone.

"Put him on," he replied.

"Who is it?" Angie asked quietly.

"It's Starke. Hopefully he has information. Let me put him on speakerphone."

A short second later, Starke's gruff voice came over the speaker. "We may have something," he said without preamble.

"What?" Lee and Angie asked in unison.

"Shane Caldwell has a cabin in the North Cascades in Washington."

"And?' Lee asked.

"The last time anyone saw Shane Caldwell and the last time he used a credit card was a few weeks ago in a little town in Washington called Pinedale. FBI agents questioned residents of the small town and showed a picture of Caldwell we managed to scrounge up. A shopkeeper swears Caldwell was there a few weeks ago, buying rope and animal traps."

"Animal traps? Why...?"

"I don't know why Crane. I'm just telling you they were on his shopping list. This Pinedale is about a thirty minute drive from where this cabin is rumored to be."

"Why didn't we know this a few days ago?" Lee exploded. "We could have been there and what do you mean rumored to be?"

"Settle down, Crane. The reason I said rumored is we've had trouble locating it."

"Why?"

"The cabin belonged to his uncle, a Brock Franks, not Caldwell."

"And Franks is being helpful, right?" Lee asked.

"Actually, he's dead, so no. The cabin was left to the Caldwell boys a few years ago while Shane was still enjoying PR hospitality. We have an approximate location for the cabin and we're in contact with rangers in the area but so far no one is sure of the exact location. Locals haven't been helpful. All they say is Franks was a reclusive. He'd show up periodically in town for supplies and disappear again. He had no friends, no one he contacted when in town, except for the storekeepers for resupplying. The US Park Service has been notified and they've sent BOLOs out to all their rangers in the back country stations."

"Great. First bit of good' news we get and we don't really get it," Lee growled.

"It's more than we had. We're closer to finding him than we were. And it's better to think of him in some cabin in the woods than...than in The People's Republic," Angie finished quietly.

"The People's Republic! Who said anything about Harriman being in The People's Republic?" Starke exploded.

"She had already come to the same thought we all have had, Sir."

"Well, Harriman's presence in The PR would be something someone would crow about. And no one has intimated in any way, shape or form that Harriman is in The PR. Or on his way there. Or anywhere else. We'd know by now. So he isn't."

"I agree," Lee said echoed by a weak assent from Angie.

"What do we do now?" Lee asked. "Mount an expedition to go up to Washington? Because I know 124 men that would jump at the chance."

"And one woman," Angie added quietly.

"What about taking FS-1 up there and do flyovers?" Lee asked. "We could..."

"First off, flying over with FS-1 may just spook Caldwell enough that he may do something drastic. Like kill Harry if he has him and they're there. Secondly, I doubt you would have had much luck using the Flying Sub. This area is densely forested. You wouldn't be able to see anything unless he was in a clearing. Bad weather is moving in but once it passes, ground search teams will head out. This cabin can't be that well hidden."

"So we wait? Again," Lee said disgusted and tired of waiting.

"For now," Starke ordered. "For now."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Several long minutes passed as Shane headed away from the falls, his eyes constantly searching the banks on both sides of the river for even the slightest sign of Nelson.

A few feet from the swirling water at the base of the falls, a face emerged from a natural indentation in the river bank. Shrouded with loose ferns and thorny vines, the small grotto had served well in hiding Harry from Shane's view after he hit the water, the falls strong current pulling him towards the small crevice. While the fall had been quite painful, he'd managed to survive with what he hoped were only minor injuries **.** A quick assessment of ribs and other assorted bones had him feeling sure that, although painful, nothing seemed broken.

The current tearing at his body as he moved out of the hole, Harry hung on to the vines that grew on the riverbank as tightly as he could to keep from being carried downstream as he watched Shane continue his careful perusal of the water's edge. When Shane disappeared around a bend, Harry grabbed hold of some thick tree roots near him and pulled his aching, bruised body from the icy river. Gasping at the pain that filled him, he sat with his back against a tall tree, legs dangling in the swift current and tried to catalogue all the places his body hurt. When he realized it would be easier to say what didn't hurt, he gave up.

His arm burned like fire where Shane's bullet had caught him. Tearing the material away from the bullet wound, he grimaced at the blood that flowed down his arm. Realizing that his left leg also felt like it was on fire, he lifted it from the water and saw his pants leg was split from his knee to the hem. Pulling the remains of the material aside he groaned as he saw a jagged cut that ran from his knee across his shin and ended just above the soaked bandage on his lower leg. Blood oozed freely from the gash and ran down his leg, dripping into the rushing water.

"The left again. Not much I can do about either injury right now." Reaching to his back, he was astonished to find his makeshift bag was still strapped about his shoulders. "Thank God for that."

A slight gust of wind had him realizing the warm breeze that had been pleasant earlier had turned cold and blustery and he began to shiver. Gazing about at his surroundings, he watched as the trees above him swayed back and forth, some moaning as they rubbed against each other, and knew he needed shelter soon.

"Might be a storm coming. What now, Nelson? Hmmm? Shane's nearby with a gun in territory he's obviously quite familiar with and you're armed with very little, a bum leg, a bullet wound and no place to hide or get out of this wind."

Turning, he tried to find a way back up to the gorge rim and shook his head at the steep rocky incline. "That's a pretty far way to fall twice."

He was just about to try for the far side of the river, hoping to at least put it between him and Shane, when he noticed a shadow behind the frothing water near the brink of the falls. Easing into the river again, he edged closer, fighting the force of the water at the base of the falls and saw what appeared to be a cave behind the wall of water. He got as close to the base as he could, trying to ignore the force of the water that hit him, stinging his face like being hit with ice pellets.

"Well, there's only one way to find out if that's a cave or not." Pulling himself from the water once more he hobbled to the rocks at the bottom of the falls. Knowing the rocks would be incredibly slippery, he did his best to pick out a route that was the least treacherous.

After a quick look around him for signs of Shane, he began to scale the slimy rocks. His hand settled on a rock covered in a thick patch of moss and he stopped, fingering the spongy material for a moment before ripping up as much as he could find and putting it in his pockets before continuing his climb. Several minutes of climbing two feet up and slipping back down one, he finally reached a point about three quarters of the way up the falls. Behind the wall of rushing water in front of him was a large cavern and he pulled himself inside, happy to at least be out of the wind. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he looked about for any signs of previous or current animal habitation and found none. Standing, he limped his way towards the back of the cave and smiled when he saw piles of brush and stacks of wood on the far wall.

"Looks like a nice cache of firewood," he noted as he knelt down running his hands over the wood. "Wet but not too wet. Maybe I can get a fire going. Question is, who left all this here?"

Turning his eyes to the rest of the cave, he saw trash littering one wall. "A local teen hideout or a hiker's shelter? The former would tell me I'm close to civilization but the latter…I could be in some back country wilderness."

Feeling his arm join his leg in a steady throbbing, he moved to the edge of cave and looked to the offending limb where Shane's bullet had hit him.

"Looks like a through and through. Glad I don't have to try to take a bullet out yet tonight. I have to clean it up and wrap it though. Need to do something about this leg, too."

Sitting by the edge of the waterfall where the light was the best, he took off his boot and sock and removed the bandage from his ankle. Taking off both his shirts, he ripped the lower part of the flannel shirt off then tore that strip into smaller strips. Taking one of them, he leaned out to the water cascading down the rocks in front of him and soaked it thoroughly, wrung it out and cleansed both wounds as gently as he could, wiping the blood away enough to see how bad they were.

While painful, he was relieved to see that the bleeding was already beginning to slow down in both. The slash in his leg was long but thankfully not too deep. Blood continued to trickle from the wound. Taking the moss from his pocket, he covered the arm and leg wounds with strips of the material then wrapped both wounds in more strips from his shredded shirt as well as he could with one hand, then lay back against the cool, damp floor.

Lethargy began to fill him and he knew he needed to find food and water. Sitting up, he put his remaining shirt, boot and sock back on, struggled to his feet and limped to the stack of wood in the far corner of the cave. Choosing the driest, he began peeling off the wettest outer layers of the wood with his rock, stacking them for a fire later; knowing the blowing wind outside would keep the smoke fairly invisible. Deciding he needed to find much drier tinder to start his fire, he sighed as he knew a little walk outside and another climb would be necessary.

"But first, some protection." Grabbing a fairly straight piece of wood from the pile, he took the rock and whittled one end into a sharp point, making another spear to replace the one he'd lost. "All I have to do is get close enough to Shane to use this before he shoots me. Should be a piece of cake," he snorted.

Harry carefully pulled himself from the cave and peered out at the vista before him, searching for signs of Shane. When he found none, he stepped from the cavern, stood on a slippery ledge and gazed up. Finding a route to the top, he began to climb carefully up the wet rock coming out on top fairly quickly. Crouching down, he knelt on the precipice of the cataract searching once more for his foe before moving away from the misty spray and towards what he hoped was drier wood.

A few minutes walking along the raging river that was preparing to throw itself over the approaching cliff brought him to an area of blow down. Trees, branches, limbs and twigs littered the forest floor. Hobbling his way to them, he found them to be old and the wood fairly dry, sheltered by the trees that still stood over them. Gathering some to him, he made a bundle of sticks and larger branches then wrapped it all tightly in vines that grew thickly nearby. Throwing the bundle over his shoulder, he began to follow the river back to the waterfall and the cave. A short time later he stopped when he noticed a channel of the river that had followed its own course and had formed a small pool of quieter, less turbulent water.

Hefting the spear he held in his hand, he smiled slightly as he imagined catching a fish or two for his dinner. Laying the bundle down, he began to edge closer to the pool, sitting carefully on the narrow bank, the spear ready for the first fish that swam his way.

His patience was rewarded when a fair sized rainbow trout swam through the calmer, shallower water of the pool to him but his first few attempts to spear the elusive trout were off and he began to grow irritated with himself. "Calm down. You know how to do this." A few more tries and he successfully landed a large rainbow, placed it on the riverbank and tried again, landing a large pike and then another rainbow.

A distant rumble of thunder had him looking to the sky that had grown darker while he'd caught his dinner. The chill wind began to blow harder and he began to shiver.

Knowing he needed to get back to his shelter before the approaching storm hit, he tied the fish to his bundle of wood, and carefully made his way back down to the cave entrance. Pausing, he stared out across the forest floor, looking for any sign Shane was near but found none.

Entering his damp sanctuary, he quickly laid his collection of firewood down and began to lay drier pieces of wood from the bundle on the pile he'd already laid. "Now for some kindling of some kind," he said looking about him for a moment before looking to the trash pile on the other side of the cave. Walking to it, he picked up several discarded candy wrappers and carried them back. "I need something more, something drier than this to start."

Looking down to the thermal shirt he wore, he fingered it, satisfied it had dried sufficiently for his purposes. Sitting, he took his rock and began shaving lint and threads from the shirt, then did the same with his pants until he had a handful of fibers which he placed under the teepee of wood and on top of several smaller sticks. Taking his bow drill from his pack, he restrung it with his shoelace and within a short period of time had a cheering fire going. He watched as the smoke spiraled around the cave before exiting at the far wall. Grabbing a flaming stick, he walked to it and saw a small crack. "Hmmm, must lead to the outside somehow. At least if Shane smells the smoke he won't find its source too easily."

Shuffling his way back to the fire, he seated himself, relishing the warmth the fire threw off, warming his cold, damp body as he cleaned and gutted two of the fish, leaving one for breakfast. Skewering them with two sticks, he put them over his fire to cook. His mouth watered as he thought of the dinner to come, or it would have watered if he wasn't so dehydrated.

Dragging the pack to him, he pulled his birch pot out; smiling at the water it still held and drank all of it in one swallow.

Rising he grabbed his breakfast fish and a length of vine from his wood pile and hobbled to the wall of water before him. Pulling the vine through the fish's gills, he tied it off then placed it in the calmer water at the top of the falls and tied it around a rock.

"That should keep it cool till morning. Just hope some wandering animal doesn't steal it."

Gazing out at the forest, now shrouded in a deep blue twilight, he watched as lightning rippled across the sky visible over him and he shivered, profoundly thankful he had found shelter. An ear-splitting crack of thunder rent the night air and echoed about the small cave. He watched a bit longer as the storm raged, lightning illuminating the forest before him in brilliant flashes of white light. Sighing in relief when nothing seemed to move in the woods that spread out before him, he took the basket, filled it once more, walked back to his fire and settled it by the blaze where he waited for it to boil. Pulling the last of his remaining cattail roots and a few of the peeled stalks he placed them near the edge of his fire to cook then took the pine needles he'd collected and added them to the pot of water. Leaning back against the rock wall, he closed his eyes as fatigue wafted over him. As long as he kept moving, he could keep the exhaustion at bay. But now that he was settling down for the night, he felt it roll over him in waves and he drifted off into a light sleep that was brought to an end when he stretched his leg out and yelped in pain.

"Need to stay awake. Can't sleep. Not yet."

After a few more minutes had passed, he used two sticks to remove his boiling water from the fire, fished out the pine needles and took his fish from their skewers. Carefully pulling the roots and stalks from the fire, he laid them out on a plate of cattail leaves. Staring at the meager dinner before him, he was thankful he at least had food and water to get him through the night and prayed he would be able to outlast Shane. A shadow passed over his eyes as he thought of the twins, and prayed they were safe, that Shane didn't have them or have access to the boys.

"They have to be all right," he whispered as he took a bit of the sizzling fish, almost sighing at the texture and taste. Gobbling both fish quickly, he reached for the roots and stalks and chewed on them then drained the cooled tea in his pot, finally feeling a bit better as his dehydrated and starved body responded to the food and water.

Filling the basket again, he purified another pot of water then finally stretched out, wincing in pain when his body came into contact with the hard rock floor and did his best to find a comfortable position. Putting his hands behind his head, he gazed up at the rock roof above him, watching as the firelight flickered about the dark cave, smoke from his fire swirling about before disappearing out the fissure in the rock behind him. His thoughts turned from Shane and what tomorrow held to his friends, knowing they would be worried about him. As Sean and Dylan's smiling cherub faces appeared in his mind he frowned, hoping he was the only one they were concerned for and that the boys were somewhere safe.

"If they aren't Shane, I swear I will kill you," he whispered as he felt his body begin to relax as sleep edged closer. "I swear I will."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Muted light filtered through the shimmery veil of the waterfall, brightening the cave noticeably as Harry struggled to pull his aching, bruised, battered body from sleep.

Moaning, he sat up, waiting as a bout of dizziness passed before he reached for his water and gulped it down. He put more wood on the glowing embers of his dwindling fire then staggered his way to the falls, retrieved his fish which had made it through the night, filled the pot and set about purifying the water.

He quickly cleaned and gutted his one remaining fish, skewered it and set it to cook over his fire. Scooting to the edge of the cave, he pulled his pants leg aside, unwrapped the bandage from his leg wound and gazed down in concern at the redness. "That explains my thirst," he muttered. "Not all due to dehydration." Turning his attention to his arm, he was satisfied the bleeding had stopped, the skin not as red or warm to the touch as his leg.

Reaching into his pocket, he found the remaining bits of moss and quickly redid the "bandaging" on his wounds then wrapped them with the last of his flannel shirt. Sighing as fatigue washed over him, he rose and went back to the fire, took his fish and ate it quickly then pulled the remaining watercress he had saved and munched on it.

Finished with his meager breakfast, he packed up his pack, grabbed a stout branch from the remaining wood pile to use as a walking stick, took his spear in hand and made his way to the curtain of water before him, peering out cautiously.

"I'm rather tired of being the hunted, Shane. I think it's about time you took a turn at it," he said with a smile as he made his way up the slippery rocks to the top of the gorge and set off cautiously following the rim in the direction he'd last seen Shane heading. Not long after he spotted a trail that led from the ridge down to the river and followed it, hoping he found some sign of his foe.

Morning passed quickly and by noon Harry felt himself growing weaker, tired and dehydrated as the last of his clean water was gone. His body craved more and he became less cautious about boiling it, certain Shane was near. After the night's rain, small natural springs ran off the hillside and he drank from them, knowing the groundwater was more likely to be purer than the water running in the river.

Occasionally he would come across patches of sphagnum moss and would tear some free. Full of water from the night's rain, he would squeeze the water from the plant into his mouth, remembering his instructors saying the moss was almost always bacteria free.

Early afternoon had passed before Harry finally saw his first evidence of Shane's passing. Wet footprints crisscrossed the river trail in front of him telling him that Shane, or someone, was nearby. Walking as quietly as he could through the dense forest vegetation that rimmed the trail, he knelt behind a rock when he heard angry mutterings ahead of him. Peering from behind the rock, he saw Shane before him intently examining the trail.

"I know you're not dead, Harry!" he yelled unexpectedly, startling Nelson enough that he almost fell. "You're not that easy to kill! Many have tried, haven't they? Where are you?"

Several more minutes of Shane's ramblings passed as he moved along the river bank. Finally he sighed heavily, dropped his head and headed away from the river and into the thick woods. As quietly as he could, Harry rose and followed him as he moved through the woods on a narrow trail, stopping when he reached a hidden glade that Shane had obviously used as a camp. A fire still blazed in a small fire pit and pine boughs were laid out making a nice soft bed by its side.

In a fit of despair, Shane slumped to the ground and whispered, "I'm sorry, Simon. I lost him. I…I tried to be a good brother to you. I tried to make him pay. I really tried. I wanted him dead for what he did to you. I don't know if he's dead. But I hurt him at least. Badly I hope. And I know he set a few of my presents off on the way to the gorge. He wasn't as careful as he should have been."

Harry rubbed a hand ruefully over his aching parts and leaned closer to hear Shane's mumblings.

"And he thinks his two precious boys are being held by an accomplice some place! Ha! That was good, wasn't it? I knew he would never play the game right. It kept him running at least to think he was doing it to save their lives. He'd never risk anyone's life for his would he? All it took was a video, a video that was taken a few months, maybe a year ago of the twins playing, and he believed I had them. Maybe I should have actually taken them but I know you little brother and you wouldn't have wanted that, would you? Two innocent lives for his guilty one wasn't your style. But he believed it!" he crowed as he rose and stalked almost manically back and forth across the small glade.

Harry listened as Shane spoke, his anger overriding the pain and weakness he'd felt in his body. The boys were all right? They weren't Shane's prisoners and never had been? He'd believed it. He'd fallen for his lies but he'd had no other option. He couldn't take the chance Shane had lied. The something wrong about the video made itself clear to him now. The video was probably from the Institute day care where the twins had been up until a few months ago. That was the something about the video that had bothered him: the twins were younger, smaller, their hair shorter. He kicked himself for believing it and not seeing it sooner. Filled with a blinding rage, Harry made the decision that this ended now.

"I don't know where he is now, Simon. The current could have taken him anywhere. It's over. If he's alive, he won. But...No! No, he's not dead. I feel it! I _will_ find him. I will! And I will kill him. For you, Simon," he growled as he continued stalking about looking for a trail that wasn't there. When he inched closer to where Harry hid, he slipped the pack quietly from his back, grasped the homemade spear in his hands and waited for Shane to move close enough to jump. There was now no reason to keep running. He could act.

Finally, Shane's wanderings brought him to a few feet in front of him and he launched himself from behind the rock, tackling Shane, and knocking him to the ground. Scampering up quickly, Harry flung himself on top of Shane.

"What…?" Shane called out, surprise on his face.

"You're right, Shane. I'm not so easy to kill. Better men than you have tried," he growled as he pressed the spear tip into Shane's neck and pushed.

"How?" he managed to squeak out through clenched lips.

"Does it really matter? What matters is if you decide to give this vendetta up."

Harry felt the fight go out of Shane and he laid his head back against the ground, staring hard at Nelson. "I guess I have no choice. You seem to hold all the cards. Go ahead, Harry," Shane said quietly as his body relaxed and his hands fell away from Nelson. "Get it over with. Do it! Kill me. And the boys."

Harry's lips curled in disgust as he pushed harder on the spear.

"I heard you talking to Simon, Shane. I know the boys were never in your clutches. You lied."

Shane began to laugh, the pressure on the spear easing enough for him to talk. "I knew you were there, Harry. That performance was for you. Brought you out of hiding didn't it?"

"I don't believe you. Not any more. I figured out why the video seemed off. It _was_ taken last year. Wasn't it? Question is, how did you get it?"

"The video may have been from last year. Or it may have been recent. You're weak Harry and not thinking clearly. I can feel the fever in you. Take the chance with your own life, but what about those two innocent angels?" he purred.

Exhaustion caused indecision to flow through Harry and he blinked, trying to think. Was he right and the boys were safe or did Shane really have them? The video flowed through his mind, searching for the inconsistencies he knew were there. But, what if he did have them?

"Damn you," Harry growled as the uncertainty flowed through him.

Feeling the pressure on his throat ease slightly, Shane suddenly wedged his knee up between them and launched Harry away from him, his spear knocked from him. Stumbling, Harry's injured leg gave way and he crumbled to the ground. Shane rose quickly and scrambled after his rifle but before he could reach it, Harry swung a leg out and tripped him, cursing at the pain the action caused. Reaching Shane, he grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, landing two blistering punches to his face. The third punch was blocked and Shane landed his own flurry of blows to Harry's face, snapping his head back and knocking him back into a tree. Pausing, to wipe the blood that dribbled down his chin from a split lip, Harry watched Shane stalk closer, knowing he was between Shane and his rifle. Glancing over Shane's shoulder, he spotted his spear tantalizingly close.

"That all you got, Shane? Prison has made you weak," he taunted.

"Really? Who's the one bleeding?" he answered as he tried to swing past Harry and grab his rifle.

Harry jumped Shane from behind and with a quick move; Shane threw Harry over his shoulder and to the ground. With a groan, Harry felt his shoulder impact a large rock on the forest floor and a white hot pain flared through his left side.

Doing his best to ignore the agony his body was in, Harry rolled across the ground to his spear, grabbing it in one hand. Rising to his knees, he turned, aimed and threw it with everything he had just as Shane, rifle in hand, aimed to shoot. Shane's body stiffened as the spear found a home in his chest. Looking down, he stared in amazement at the quivering haft of Harry's spear, then touched it as if not quite sure what he was seeing, the rifle dropping to the ground. Stumbling, Shane moved towards Harry but fell to his knees and began crawling towards him.

Harry staggered to his feet and limped his way unsteadily to the rifle, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side. Picking the rifle up, he smiled as Shane seemed to deflate, his head dropping to the ground in defeat.

"Give up now, Shane?"

A brief nod was the only answer Harry got. Feeling his shoulder, he groaned as realized it was dislocated. As gently a he could, Harry pulled his arm up and tucked his hand into his waistband. Looking about he spotted Shane's large backpack and headed to it. Opening it, he saw a large canteen of water which he opened, gulping the sweet cool water inside before forcing himself to not drink it all. Rummaging around inside, he found a first aid kit and took the pack back to Shane who hadn't moved.

"Do you want help? Or should I leave you here?"

Several minutes passed before Shane ground out a brusque, "Help."

"Ask me nicely."

Several more minutes passed before Shane did as Harry asked.

"That's better. Let me warn you, another stunt like before and I will leave you here. Possibly with a bullet in you to accompany that spear wound. I think I heard wolves howling the other night. Are we near wolves, Shane?" he asked with a grim smile as he checked the wound the spear had made, impressed with his own spear making ability and aim.

Not getting an answer, Harry grabbed the spear shaft where it quivered in Shane's chest and yanked it out quickly, smiling at Shane's cry of pain. "Sorry. Did that hurt? Sit down and let me try to stop this bleeding."

Shane, all the fight gone from him, slumped to the ground and lay back against a tree, watching as Harry gathered antiseptic and bandages.

"I did it for Simon, Harry. I thought it was the least I could do for him," he managed to whisper as he cast a quick glance to the rifle at Harry's side.

Harry snorted. "What you should have done for Simon was to keep him out of your scheming. He'd be alive now. Maybe some day you'll see that," he said as he did what he could one-handed for Shane's wound. "Put you hands together," he ordered, then took a roll of tape and securely wrapped Shane's hands together. Before he could attend to his own wounds, Shane hit Harry's injured shoulder with his taped hands and made a grab for the rifle by Harry's side. Stunned at the blinding pain that enveloped him; Harry quickly threw himself on Shane's back and drove him into the ground, bringing a roar of agony from the man.

Grabbing Shane's collar, Harry pulled him up and thrust him back against a tree. "Try that again and I will kill you. I swear."

A quick nod was all Shane could manage as Harry began to attend to his own wounds.

His pain fading a bit, Shane glanced down, seeing the row of angry red holes on Harry's lower and smiled. "Get caught in a trap, Harry?"

Harry remained silent as he unwrapped the moss about his wounds and slathered on copious amounts of antibiotic cream he found in Shane's pack then wrapped the wounds in gauze as well as he could with one hand.

Standing, he moved to a small tree and gently took his left hand from his waistband. Lifting it with his right, he reached his arms around the tree. Taking a deep breath, he eased himself back until, with an audible pop, the shoulder slid back into place. Using a long length of tape, he secured his injured arm against his body to keep the shoulder immobile, then put everything back in the bag and zippered it closed.

"Looks like I guessed right about your route, huh? Follow the river to the impasse, go cross country, find the cattails and boom!" Shane laughed. "I'm sad you missed a few other traps I had planned for you though."

"So you set this all up on your own? No help?"

"Ah…I didn't say that, did I? I did warn you I had someone helping me. Someone that was watching the boys for me. You remember that don't you? They could so easily die."

"I remember. If they are hurt in any way, you'll pay."

Shane managed a slight shrug. "Perhaps. But, they will be dead. Imagine what their parents will be feeling when they find out their two precious boys are dead and all because of you."

Enraged, Harry backhanded Shane and, putting his face as close to Shane's as he could growled, "If they die or are hurt in any way, I will kill you. You know that, don't you?"

"While I'm in prison?" Shane laughed. "That will be fun. And you'll take my place! That will be even better than killing you I think."

Harry eased himself off Shane, smiling at the grunt of pain that slipped from Shane's lips, picked up the pack and rifle and slung both over his shoulder. Heading to Shane's fire, he kicked dirt over it until he was satisfied it was out then turned to Shane.

"Get up," he ordered, watching as Shane struggled to rise from the ground. "How do we get out of here?"

"You're the expert at everything, Harry. You tell me."

Harry stared at Shane for a second then smiled and reached for the heavy bandaging on Shane's wound and began unwrapping it.

"What are you doing?"

"Should be obvious, Shane. You don't tell me how to get us out of here and you will bleed to death," he said as he twisted his finger in the wound just a bit, smirking at the gasp of pain.

Looking from Harry's smug face down to the wound that was oozing bright red blood, Shane swallowed a few times before closing his eyes. "All right. From here we need to cross the river and head south for two miles. There's a forest service road. Truck is parked there."

"That better be the truth," Harry muttered as he re-bandaged the wound and pushed Shane down the trail to the river's edge.

"Crossing's easier down the path a bit more," Shane said nodding to his right.

Looking to his left and seeing nothing but white water, he decided to believe Shane and headed right for several yards before he came to a calm pool of water. Pushing Shane ahead of him, the two stumbled across the freezing river, losing their footing on the slippery rocks several times before they reached the other side.

A long walk through woods thick with vines and brush took them to a road. Looking up and down the road, Harry saw no sign of a truck.

"Where's this truck, Shane?"

Glancing up, Shane stared about him then nodded to his left. "Around that bend. I…I think that's where it is," he muttered.

"Come on. I want out of here before nightfall," Harry said as he cast a quick glance to the steadily darkening sky.

Just around the bend, Harry saw a huge black Ford truck and smiled. Just a little longer and he would be out of here. Just a little longer and he would be able to find out if Dylan and Sean were safe.

Opening the passenger side door, Harry thrust Shane inside and buckled his seat belt tightly, then took a roll of tape from Shane's pack and taped his hands to the door securely. "Don't want you to fall out, now do we?" then went around to the driver side, put the pack in back and carried the rifle with him to the driver's seat.

Laying the rifle by his left leg, Harry started the truck and asked, "Which way?"

Sighing, Shane nodded behind them. "Turn around. Head down the road until you come to an intersection. Turn right and head south. You'll come to a ranger station."

Starting the truck, Harry put it in gear, turned around and headed for the ranger station, shaking his head to ward off the lightheadedness he felt. Just a little longer. That's all he needed was to hang on a little longer.

Reaching for the glove box, Harry rummaged around inside, cursing when he didn't find what he hoped he would.

"What're you looking for Harry?" Shane asked sweetly. "Food perhaps? You won't find any in there. Maybe you should have brought your cattails with you."

Doing his best to ignore the snicker from Shane and his own growing weakness, Harry drove as quickly as he could down the rutted road, making the turn south and driving for almost an hour before he saw the ranger station ahead, praying someone was there.

His prayers were rewarded when he saw a tall, green and gray clad ranger leave the small, squat building and head to his truck then pause as he saw the truck hurrying towards him.

Harry stopped the truck near the ranger and turned the motor off. Opening the door, he stepped to the ground, his leg buckling under him and he caught himself on the door.

"Hey! You need help?" the ranger called as he hurried to Nelson's side.

"Yeah…yeah I do. My name's Nelson…Harriman Nelson. I was…"

"Harriman Nelson?" the ranger interrupted. " _Admiral_ Harriman Nelson?"

"Yeah, that would be me," he answered with a slight smile.

"A lot of people have been looking for you. Here. You look like you need to sit down," he said as he helped Harry to a bench in front of the small station.

"Water…do you…do you have any water?" he managed to ask, his throat dry.

"Sure. Hang on," he answered. Throwing a quick look to the man still in the truck who glared at him, he reopened the ranger station and disappeared inside, returning quickly with a large bottle of water that he handed to Nelson who swallowed as much of it as he could before heeding the ranger's admonition to go slow.

"Thanks. I…I haven't had much in the way of food or water for…How long have I been missing? I seem to have lost track of time."

"Well, I just got a BOLO on you from the FBI. Said you'd been abducted three days ago and they thought you might be in this area. Agents just raided a cabin about ten miles from here. Thought you might be in it but they didn't find anyone."

"No one?" Harry asked quietly, his brows furrowed in thought. "They're sure?"

"Yeah. Place looked like someone had been there but it was empty. Why?"

"Are they sure there weren't two small boys there? Dylan and Sean O'Brien…I was afraid they might be there," he said turning his gaze to Shane still in the truck.

"No one was there. He the one that took you?" he asked jerking his head in the direction of the truck.

"Yeah, he is. Name's Shane Caldwell."

"You think he took two boys also?"

"That's what he said. Quite frankly I don't know what to believe or think anymore," he said as he rubbed his aching head, his thoughts becoming more and more muddled.

"You need medical attention. I don't have much I can do for you here but I'm going to let people know you're safe and set up a pick up spot. He secure where he is? "

"He's not going anywhere," Nelson replied firmly, his eyes never leaving the man in the truck. Even If the cabin was empty, the boys could still be in danger

"Here," the ranger said reaching into his backpack. "My wife made me two sandwiches. I only ate one," he said shrugging. "It's something to put in your stomach until we can get you out of here."

"Thanks. Looks a lot better than cattails," he said nodding his thanks as he took the large sandwich.

"I've never actually eaten cattails but I heard they aren't bad."

"They wouldn't be my first choice for sole sustenance but they were edible," he answered with a smile

"Well, let me contact my superiors and let them know you're safe," he said as he headed inside.

"Hey!" Nelson called. "What's your name anyway?"

Stopping the young ranger smiled and called back, "Mike Kress!"

"Nice to meet you, Mike."

With a little salute, Mike headed inside. Looking down at the sandwich in his hands, he devoured it quickly then rose and limped to the truck and opened the passenger side door.

"Won't be long now, Shane. Soon you'll be all dressed in prison orange. You traded one prison for another."

"Perhaps," Shane answered with a small smile. "But perhaps you'll be in your own prison once they find those precious boys dead: a prison of guilt. You know that prison, don't you, Harry?"

Anger washed over Harry's face and before he could stop himself, delivered a satisfying punch to Shane's face, smiling as Shane's head snapped back and he lost consciousness.

"He all right?"

Turning Harry saw the ranger striding up the path to the truck, concern on his face.

"He's taking a nap. I don't think he's feeling well," Harry answered.

"Well, I made contact with my superiors down in Marblemount. Can't tell you how excited they were to know you'd been found alive. We're to drive towards the Marblemount Ranger Station. They'll meet us about halfway. Helicopter's on its way now and will get you both to a hospital."

"Could you do me a favor?" Harry asked.

"Anything. What?"

"Could you contact your superiors again and ask if they have any word on two boys that may have been taken when I was? Names are Dylan and Sean O'Brien."

"Sure. Are these the boys you thought were in the cabin?"

"Yeah. I just want to make sure they're all right and they stay that way."

"Well, I didn't hear about any boys being taken. BOLO was for just you. But I'll contact them for sure. Why don't you come sit down over by the station? You're not looking too good," he said as he took Harry's elbow in his hand, noticing the slight trembling in Harry's body and his flushed face.

"Yeah, I'm not feeling too good," he managed to whisper as he followed Mike to the station where he guided him back down onto the bench. "Also, could you ask your superiors to call the Nelson Institute and put guards on Sean and Dylan O'Brien and their parents? Hell, tell them to heighten security and make sure everyone at the Institute is protected."

"Sure, I can do that," he agreed as he cast a worried look to the four-star admiral. "If they ask why what should I tell them?"

"Tell them...tell them the guy that took me threatened the boys."

The ranger turned to the man in the truck. "What kind of man threatens a little kid?" he asked as he started back to the station.

Harry leaned over and stared at the ground. His thoughts seemed jumbled as he thought of what Shane had said, and what he hadn't. What if the boys _had_ been taken? What if Shane had an associate watching them, waiting for a call from Shane? Even now, the boys could be in danger. Worry for the twins flowed through him as he thought of the last time he had seen their smiling faces. _"We're five now Admiral! Five!"_ they'd yelled in unison to him. As if he could still feel their tiny hands, he reached up to his neck and shook his head. "So innocent. They have to be all right."

"They are, Admiral," Ranger Kress said. "The ranger I contacted, James Stanton, confirmed you were the only one taken. He sent out a quick call to your Institute and they confirmed the twins were safe. They are putting them under guard though. They were confused as to why."

Harry closed his eyes and let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank God," he whispered. They were safe. Shane had lied. He shouldn't be surprised at that but he was for some reason. As if all the fight had simply deserted him, he felt himself overcome with exhaustion and struggled to stay awake.

"My friend over there told me he'd taken them and had someone watching them."

"Well, I think he lied. But they're safe and so are you. That's what matters."

"Yeah...yeah that's what matters," he agreed as he struggled to stay awake.

"Look, let me get you to my truck and we can get out of here. You need a doctor. I'll get your friend from the truck," he said when he saw Nelson was about to head for the man in the truck.

A quick nod was all he seemed to have the strength for and he allowed Mike to help him to his truck. Seated inside he watched as the young ranger went back for Shane who was beginning to wake up from his "nap", and was hustled none too gently to the truck, handcuffed and put in the back.

Glancing over his shoulder, Harry glared at Shane. "You never took the boys. They're safe," he said as Mike started the truck and headed them towards the rendezvous, everything inside him fighting to stay awake until he had an answer.

"Are they?" Shane asked, his brows furrowed in thought. "I must have been mistaken. They served a purpose though."

"What purpose?"

"To make you think their deaths would be your fault. To cause you undue suffering," he answered, his voice hardening. "To convince you that playing my little game of hide and seek was a good idea."

"On that point, you win. But you're the one headed back to bars and chains. Seems to be where you need to stay," he growled as he turned back, watching the forest pass by and felt every last ounce of energy disappear as his head dropped to his chest in exhaustion.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

 _Last chapter folks! I hope you all enjoyed this story. Thank you to all who read it and my deepest thanks to all who took the time to send me a review! I can't tell you how much that means to me. Also, a huge thank you to my beta who read over this story for me and pointed out my errors. I appreciate your help more than I can say. You're awesome!_

Lee Crane and Chip Morton, hurried down the halls of Cascade Valley Hospital, north of Seattle, worry mixed with relief on their faces as they skidded to a halt by a nurse's station.

"We're looking for a Harriman Nelson. We were told he'd been brought in by helicopter a few hours ago," Lee asked quickly.

"Let me see…a copter did land a few hours ago and…yes here we are…He's in Exam Room two. Doctor Watts is taking care of him. Go straight down this hall, turn left, second room on the right."

"Thanks," he answered with a smile as the two _Seaview_ officers headed off down the hall. The two, along with Starke and Angie, had been informed of what Shane Caldwell had put the admiral through. Although they'd been assured he was going to be fine, both needed to see for themselves and had made their way to the small hospital quickly in the Flying Sub.

Turning left they almost collided with a tall, blond-haired doctor just exiting the room they had been told the admiral was in.

"Doctor Watts? My name is Lee Crane and this is Chip Morton. We're friends of Admiral Nelson. How is he?"

"Lucky to be alive. He's had quite an adventure from what he's said and has a few injuries."

"Injuries? How bad?" Lee asked.

"None are life-threatening." he assured. "The admiral sustained a dislocated shoulder, a wrenched ankle, a long gash on his left leg, a bullet wound to the upper left arm and some smaller wounds on his lower left leg that are infected, He also has a slight concussion, a few bruised ribs and more than a few cuts, scrapes and bruises. He's dehydrated and running a slight fever right now. We had him on an antibiotic IV drip as well as an IV to rehydrate him however, against my wishes, he refuses to stay overnight. I'd like to do a more thorough exam, let him rest a bit and pump him full of more antibiotics, fluids and some good food, but he insists he's fine. He told me in no uncertain terms that once the IVs were finished, he wanted to be released. Actually, he demanded to be released. I've been in touch with his physician…a Dr. Jamieson and gave him all the admiral's information and he assured me he'll make sure he's taken care of. He also informed me his demanding to be released from medical care is not unusual behavior," he said with a slight smile.

"That's putting it mildly," Lee laughed. "He does not like to be fussed over."

"I can see that. Once the IVs were finished and he gave his statement to an FBI agent by the name of Grimes, he asked for a hot shower and some clean clothes, both of which we gave him and he informed me once again, he wanted to be released."

"He wasn't going to wait for someone to come get him?" Lee asked, confused.

"He seems intent on getting home. Said he had to check on someone."

"Did he say who?" Chip asked.

"No, he didn't but he's concerned about whoever it is."

"He is going to be all right though?" Lee asked. "It's okay to take him home?"

"Give him some time and a fair amount of rest, food and fluids and he should be fine as long as the infection in his injuries responds to the antibiotics of course. Dr. Jamieson said he will keep a close eye on the infections. As I said, he's dehydrated and has been living on fish, berries and cattails for the past few days so a good meal and plenty of fluids are in order. We also tested him for giardia as his water supply could have been contaminated although he assured us he did what he could to purify his drinking water."

"We'll make sure he takes his meds and gets plenty of food, rest and fluids," Chip assured with a smile, relief for the admiral on his face.

"Well, let me process this release and you can take him home."

"Thanks, Doctor," Lee said as the doctor nodded and walked off.

Lee and Chip walked to the door and opened it, hearing a grumbling coming from inside. They saw the admiral seated on a chair, his left arm strapped to his chest, doing his best to get his boots back on and cursing when he couldn't manage it one-handed.

"Need some help?" Lee asked from the door, a smile lighting his face when he saw Nelson look up in surprise. "Wow. I sure hope the other guy looks worse."

"Lee! Chip! Well, it didn't take you two long to get here, did it?" he asked with a big smile. "The other guy looks better but has a hole in his chest that I don't. How did you know where I was?"

"We were almost out the door headed in this direction when we got word you'd found your way out of the woods on your own and back to civilization."

"You knew about where I was? About Shane?"

"Someone at ONI figured out Caldwell might be involved and Admiral Starke told us. We'd just found out where you might be a little while ago," Lee answered as he knelt by his friend and began working his uninjured foot into the boot, surprised the admiral accepted his help without an argument. "Starke also told us about the Caldwells and the mission you were on."

"Mission," Harry said in disgust as he leaned back in the chair, content to allow Lee to help him put the confounded boots on. "Just what did he tell you about the mission?"

"He told us you and the Caldwells and four others went on a mission to retrieve Intel."

"And?" he asked, knowing they had been told more by the tone in Lee's voice.

Done with one boot, Lee leaned back and looked Nelson in the eye. "He told us your mission was a cover for the real mission. He said you never knew."

Nelson was silent, his jaw working in agitation. "I never knew. No. Two good men died in that decoy mission. Two agents turned traitor. For what?" he asked quietly, his eyes focused on something only he could see.

"Starke said it was necessary to the success of the mission. You being high profile made the mission seem legit I suppose."

"And expendable," Harry added quietly, a touch of insult in his voice.

"I doubt..."

"How did you know where I was anyway?" Harry interrupted.

"With Adams' and Beauvais' deaths, someone at ONI put two and two together and came up with the Caldwells. Once we knew who had taken you, a little searching found that the Caldwell family had an old cabin in the North Cascade Mountains. Figured it was a good place to hide you. We didn't know his other plan though until we got word you'd been found," he answered as he took Harry's bandaged foot in hand and gently eased it into the boot, hearing a soft hiss from the admiral at the movement.

"You mean his game," Harry muttered.

"Yeah. His game," Lee all but growled.

"What happened to your leg and foot, sir?" Chip asked.

"I found a land mine and an animal trap with my foot. I cut my leg falling down a cliff."

"A land mine?" Lee asked in shock.

"Shane had a few surprises for me on his little hunt. A low charge land mine was just one. An animal trap hidden in a pond was another."

"What about your arm?" Lee asked quietly, anger at Shane Caldwell filling him.

"The arm found a bullet and the shoulder was dislocated when Shane slammed me into a nice bed of very hard rocks."

"Sounds like you had a nice time in the woods," Lee growled, his voice hard as he looked up into Nelson's haggard, bruised face.

"I've had better times in the woods," he agreed, his eyes not meeting Lee's.

"The doctor said you were in a hurry to get out of here. Said you need to check on someone. Who?" Chip asked.

"Dylan and Sean," Nelson answered quietly, looking Lee and Chip in the eyes. "Are they all right?"

"Yes, of course. We got your message to put protection on the boys as well as Mandy and Bobby. We also heightened security in all sections of the Institute and _Seaview._ But why?" Lee asked.

"You've seen them since the party?" Nelson asked ignoring Lee's question. "You saw the boys?"

"Well, no but we've been in touch with both Mandy and Bobby ever since you disappeared. Bobby's been taking care of things on _Seaview_ while you…well while you were missing. He feels pretty guilty."

"Guilty?" Nelson barked. "What does he have to feel guilty for?"

"You being taken of course."

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. It wasn't his fault."

"That's not how he or Mandy see it. Unreasonable perhaps but to them it makes sense."

"Why are you concerned about the boys, sir?" Chip asked.

Harry was quiet for a bit as he thought of the video he'd seen, kicking himself for not seeing what was wrong with it. But even if he had seen the differences in the boys and saw they were younger, would he have trusted that Shane didn't have them? Or trust that he didn't have someone ready to take them?

"Shane said he had taken the boys from the party, just as he had me. He showed me a video of them. He said if I didn't cooperate on his little hunt…if I refused to run…he'd kill them. I believed him and cooperated."

"Wow. Well, if they were missing, we'd know. They're fine. I promise you," Lee assured.

"I should have known he lied, that the video was a lie but, I couldn't take the chance he didn't have them. I...I couldn't take the chance," he whispered, shaking his head.

"What happened to you at the party? How did you just, disappear?" Chip asked.

"I went in the box just as I was told to, came out the back of the box and got walloped over the head. I remember Shane being there and someone else. Shane had...has...an accomplice out there somewhere. That's why I wanted security on everyone. He drugged me at some point. I woke up in his cabin with one hell of a headache. That's when he showed me a video of the boys and said if I didn't do what he said, he'd kill them. I believed he could have taken them too from the party. So I played his game. Run, find civilization before Shane caught and killed me and the boys would be free."

"And if you died?" Lee asked.

"They would still be freed. I didn't see that I had a choice. Either way the boys would be freed. Eventually I found out he'd lied and he didn't have the boys."

"How?" Chip asked.

"I heard him talking to his dead brother. I heard him say he should really have taken the boys. Or Mandy or Bobby or you and Chip. I guess it got my Irish up," he smiled. "We had quite a little brawl after that."

The sound of the door opening had all three looking to the door where a pretty young nurse held a packet of papers. "Admiral? Dr. Watts asked me to bring you your discharge papers, a few prescriptions and a list of instructions."

"Thank you Nurse…?"

"Austin, Admiral. Marissa Austin."

"Well, thank you, Miss Austin," he said with a bright smile as he took the papers, signed them and handed them back.

"You take those antibiotics, don't use your left arm at all and stay off the leg for a few days. All right?" she ordered firmly but with a little smile.

"I will do that. And thank whoever found me these clothes, would you? They smell so much nicer than the ones I arrived in."

"I will do that. Now you sit here and Nurse Barnes will be right back with a wheelchair."

"Thank you again for all your help, Miss Austin," he said dazzling her with his brightest smile.

Blushing, she hurried from the room, snickers from his two officers causing Harry to look up in surprise. "What?"

"You just have this way with nurses. That's all," Lee smiled broadly.

"Well, be that as it may, what do you say we get out of here," he said struggling to his feet where he swayed for a moment as a wave of dizziness wafted over him before he felt two hands supporting him.

"We should wait for the wheelchair," Chip said as he steadied Nelson. "You're not supposed to be on your feet."

"I managed to make it through the woods with only one good leg; I can make it to the car."

"All right. Let's go, Admiral," Lee sighed as he helped him from the room.

"I need to see Shane first. Do you know where he is?"

"I'll go check," Chip said after casting a quick look to Lee.

"What do you need to see him for?"

"Just need to see him before I leave," he answered quietly, a determined look in his eyes telling Lee he wasn't going to win any arguments with the admiral today. At the end of the hall he saw Chip talking to a nurse and returned quickly.

"He's in room four just down the hall. The nurse I talked to is not pleased you're out of your room. Said the head nurse won't be happy," he added, with a crooked smile.

"She can be unhappy. I need to do this. Let's go,'" Harry replied.

Pushing the doors to Shane's room open, he stared at the figure before him. "Stay here," he ordered his friends. "I'll be right back." He made his way inside, doing his best to not allow his limp to show and stopped by Shane's bed.

Sensing someone was beside him, Shane opened his eyes and started when he saw Nelson standing there, an enigmatic look on his face.

"Come to gloat, Harry?"

"Gloat? No, Shane."

"Then what? You must want something from me."

"Just wanted to see you one last time and ask you why you didn't really take the boys. I believe you could have."

"Yes, I could have," he said after a moment. "But despite what you think of me, I'm not that person. Despite what I said, my problem was with you. Not two young boys. Or their parents. Only you."

"I hope you take the time to figure out who killed your brother Shane. My bullet, yes but your hand was right there with mine. He never wanted to be anything but what you were. And that killed him. _You_ killed him."

Shane turned his eyes from Harry's, unwilling to accept what he said. "You should have killed me, Harry. You really should have," he said in a menacing tone. "I will always blame you for Simon's death. Always. Look over your shoulder, old friend. You never know when or where I will be. Or where my associate will be."

"Where _you_ will be is prison. As for your associate, he'll be found. My people are safe and they will stay that way. Forewarned is forearmed. Isn't that the saying?"

"Are you so certain they'll manage to keep me in prison, Harry?"

"Very. Besides, I already proved who the better man is, didn't I? Then and now," Harry smirked as he turned and walked out the door, ignoring Shane's curses.

"He doesn't sound happy," Lee remarked with a smile when Nelson left the room.

"I don't believe he is, Lee."

"There you are!" a slightly miffed voice called from behind Harry. "You were told to wait for the wheelchair, Admiral Nelson! We discussed that fact didn't we?"

Harry turned woeful eyes to a sturdily built older nurse who towered over the four-star admiral, said wheelchair by her side, in front of him.

"Discuss is not how I remember it, Nurse Barnes. Ordered was how I remember it," he replied sweetly as he tried to limp his way by the older nurse who deftly blocked his way.

"Rules, Admiral Nelson. You expect your men to follow yours, correct?" At his simple nod that was accompanied by a frown, she continued. "Then why not make a good example to your men here and sit in the chair for the two minutes it will take to get you off my floor and to the front door."

Harry stared at the nurse for all of five seconds before he sighed and slumped into the chair when he suddenly realized he was quite exhausted. "There. All right?"

"All right," she said trying not to smile at her victory over the formidable admiral.

"You ready to get out of here, Admiral?" Lee asked, trying hard not to smile.

"Very," he said as the two men followed their commanding officer down the hall, down the elevator and out the door.

~000~

A few hours later, Harry awoke with a start from a deep sleep and looked about in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Home. That's what you wanted, right?" Lee asked smiling at the confusion on the admiral's face.

"I...I don't remember getting in the car. Or the Flying Sub for that matter," he added, confused as to how he was suddenly home.

"Once you left the hospital you were kind of out of it, sir," Chip said as he helped Nelson from the car. "You slept the whole way to the airport where we had FS-1, woke enough to get on board then slept until we landed."

"From there we had to help you get in the car for the short ride home. And here we are," Lee said with a big smile. "Home."

Opening the door, Lee and Chip helped Nelson in and guided him to his couch where he slumped down, exhausted.

"Sit there and we'll get something for you to eat. Angie was here earlier to drop off some food for you. She'll be back later to make sure you're really all right. She was pretty upset," Lee said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a container of food. Opening it he sighed in happiness, knowing the admiral was going to enjoy dinner tonight.

"What is it that's making you smile?" Harry called from his seat.

"Looks like you're having Trout Almondine and baby potatoes tonight!" Lee crowed, knowing it was one of the admiral's favorite meals, after steak of course.

"Uh...is there anything else in there?" he asked, hoping there was something, anything other than fish. He'd had enough of fish for awhile. Cattails and berries, too.

Peering around the refrigerator door at his friend, Lee looked back inside, searching for something else. "Well, there's some pizza way in the back that's been there since..."

"I'll take it," Harry said as he tried to get up to get the pizza he knew had been in there for more than a few days.

"Sit," Chip ordered when he saw Harry trying to get up. "Sir." he amended when he saw the admiral's left eyebrow shoot up in irritation. "We'll heat it and bring it to you while you rest. Here's some water while you wait."

Harry took the offered glass of ice cold water, drained it then handed it back to his executive officer. "Another round, Mr. Morton," he joked as Chip took the glass and went to refill it.

Hearing a knock, Chip made a detour to the door and opened it to see the O'Brien's…all four of them…along with Angie Wood on the doorstep.

"Is he awake?" Mandy O'Brien asked quietly.

"He is!" Nelson called loudly. "Come in!"

Chip opened the door a bit wider, just barely getting out of the way of two fireballs of energy that burst through the door and ran to Harry, slowing when they got to the couch. Climbing up beside him carefully, they stared at him uncertainly, their eyes shooting to his bruised face and bandaged arm.

"Dylan! Sean! I can't tell you how happy I am to see you both!" he crowed as he wrapped his good arm around their thin shoulders.

"Admiral…," Sean said quietly. "Where were you?"

"You went in the box but you didn't come out," Dylan added.

"We were worried," they murmured, staring at him with concerned expressions.

"Oh, well, sometimes…well sometimes it can take awhile to… to find your way home after disappearing. That's all it was," he assured them, smiling at their relieved expressions. "I just took a little longer to come back."

"But you're home now? For good?" Sean asked.

"I'm home now. For good," he answered, smiling as the two very carefully arranged themselves on his lap.

Reaching out to gently touch the heavily bandaged shoulder, Dylan asked, "Does it hurt?"

"It did. But not now," he assured them as they looked at him in concern. Inside, Harry cursed Shane for taking the natural enthusiasm and happiness from the two small boys.

"How did you hurt your arm?" Sean asked.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. I tripped over something and fell. I landed on my shoulder. And my face," he joked, hoping to reassure the boys who nodded then smiled at Nelson's nonchalance.

"Tell us what it was like. Tell us what you saw while you were…while you were lost," Dylan said.

"All right," he said softly. "First, there were many beautiful, brilliant colors all swirling about and the sweetest music I ever heard right after I got in the box. Suddenly, I looked around and saw I wasn't in the box any more."

"Where were you?" the boys asked in unison, their eyes wide with interest.

"I was in a mystical place filled with such amazing wonders. Off in the distance I saw trees of all shapes and sizes. Magical trees they were."

"Magical?" the boys said in a hushed, amazed voice.

"Magical," he repeated. "When I was hungry, they gave me food and kept me warm when I was cold. The sun was a blaze of color, unlike anything I've seen from around here, and the moon lit the night sky with brilliant rays of sparkling light. All about me the land was covered in a wonderful blanket of flowers of all colors, shapes and sizes. Animals of all shapes and sizes roamed near me and water fell from the sky like a curtain, thundering and powerful. But the sky! Well, the night sky was an inky canvas that…"

On the far side of the room, Bobby, Mandy, Angie Lee and Chip listened as Nelson, in his deep, rich voice, wove a story of a wonderful land where magic lived, knowing his words and story had the desired effect of easing the concerns of the two guileless boys as they heard their small chuckles turn into huge laughs that echoed about the room.

 _The End_


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